


Where Talent Goes On Vacation: Side Stories

by Theralion



Series: Where Talent Goes To Die [5]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2020-04-11 23:32:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 116,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19119955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theralion/pseuds/Theralion
Summary: A collection of Free Time Events and other stories involving the students trapped inside Talent High School's killing school trip. Reading Where Talent Goes On Vacation is highly recommended for background and context. Be warned: there will be spoilers if you aren't caught up with the main fic.





	1. Free Time Events: Chiyuri Nagato

**Where Talent Goes On Vacation: Free Time Events**

_As with my previous fic, this is also a collection of Side Stories for Where Talent Goes On Vacation, including but not limited to Free Time Events. I recommend that you be caught up with the main fic before you read these, but there will be warnings as to what, if anything, each chapter will spoil._

**Free Time Events: Chiyuri Nagato**

* * *

_SPOILER ALERT: Minor Prologue Spoilers_

**EVENT 1: Nagato got started in tech support by helping her mother. She was happy to help her mother and to be recognized for her abilities.**

Nagato and I spent a while together, and she listened intently as I talked about my career, since I was her favorite actress. She wasn't willing to talk about herself until I took the initiative to ask.

"I'm curious about your talent, Nagato," I said. "Why choose to become tech support, of all things?"

"It's not so much that I chose it as it chose me," Nagato said. "I don't know if I would have set out to do it if not for a few personal experiences."

I suppose Nagato's remark made sense. After all, a lot of people sought to pursue dreams that they could never achieve themselves, only to end up falling back on something more in line with their talents. Because of that, I had to admit that I was lucky to be able to realize my dream of becoming an actress.

"I'm not sure if you know," Nagato said, "but my mom isn't very good with technology. When she bought a smartphone back when I was in elementary school, I ended up having to walk her through getting it set up."

I couldn't help but chuckle. Maybe it was because my mom used her smartphone a lot as my manager, but I couldn't imagine Nagato-sensei being that incompetent. Of course, since my mom also set up and ran my official website, maybe I set the bar a bit high.

"Wow," I said. "Talk about being behind the times."

"I know," Nagato said. "Of course, Mom does catch on easily, with some help. She learned how to use her phone, her computer, and other electronics, so I'm sure she can do anything she puts her mind to."

"I'm glad to hear it," I said. "Of course, it looks like you played a role in that."

Nagato smiled.

"I was happy to be told that I was talented at something," Nagato said, "since for most of my childhood, I got mediocre grades, was a so-so athlete and wasn't very popular. I had no idea what sort of career I could pursue, or what I'd want to do for a living."

I nodded. Nagato probably knew that I'd been a talented actress since I was young, but there was no reason to tell her that, since it'd only make her feel bad about herself. We were each talented in our own fields, in our own right, so there was no point in comparing

"But most of all," Nagato said, "I was also glad to be of some use to my mom. Parents invest a lot of time and effort into raising their children, so if you think in terms of money, it's a debt that the children may never be able to repay. Still, because I love my mom, I want to help her and ease her burden however I can."

"I know the feeling," I said. "My mom knows that raising a daughter's hard work, but she says that if she had to do it all over again, she wouldn't do anything differently. That's why I want to do my part to help her out, too."

Nagato didn't ask why I'd never mentioned my father, and maybe she didn't need to. On the other hand, both of us had one very important thing in common- we owed a lot to our mothers, and we would do anything in our power to repay our debts. Because of that, we could probably become close friends if we had the time to get to know each other well enough.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Nagato ended up helping some of her schoolmates with their problems. They weren't all that grateful, but she was glad to help.**

I met up with Nagato again. Since we'd talked about most of my work, neither of us was sure here to begin.

"Just wondering, Azuki-san," Nagato said, "but where did we leave off last time?"

"I think it was when you said you helped your mom out with tech-related stuff," I said. "Does that sound about right?"

"It does," Nagato said. "In other words, it was the first time I was recognized for my talent."

It was all well and good to have confidence in yourself, but your skills had to be acknowledged. The Ultimates had to attract recruiters' attention, and even the hoi polloi had to prove that they were able to do their jobs when seeking employment.

"With that in mind, I'm curious about something," I said. "You had to be at least somewhat famous to be an Ultimate, so how did you get your reputation?"

Nagato paused to think for a moment.

"At school, I guess," Nagato said. "Back in middle school, I noticed one of my classmates had trouble with her smartphone, and I offered to help. I solved the problem quickly, and she was really grateful, even if it was the sort of problem that anyone who used a smartphone a lot how could fix."

I couldn't help but notice that this wasn't really an Ultimate-caliber feat. Of course, neither was my starring in my elementary school play, and we all had to start somewhere.

"Eventually, word spread," Nagato said, "since the girl I'd helped was somewhat popular, and knew a lot of people. Other schoolmates, even those who hadn't talked to me much before, asked me for help, from their phones to their personal computers. I solved their problems, too, and I eventually became the go-to person for problems that didn't require a professional repair job."

"So in other words, they didn't so much as give you the time of day until you proved yourself useful to them?" I said. "That's kind of self-serving."

"Maybe it is," Nagato said, "but to me, it felt nice to be needed for something. I'd rather be known as 'the tech support girl' than... well, a nobody."

I wondered how Nagato planned to finish the sentence. She wasn't quite shy, but she seemed more or less fine being average, so I had to wonder- what did she want to avoid being seen as?

"I guess I see what you mean," I said, "but it's still a bit insulting that they only know you for the one thing you're good at. I'm more than just an actress, after all."

"I know," Nagato said, "but many people are judged by what sort of job they possess, and how well they do it. Tech support may not be a prestigious job, but I hope that by doing it well, I will earn others' respect."

It was clear that Nagato had a strong desire for others' approval, but I had to wonder- why weren't they giving it to her? The answer would have to wait for now, but perhaps I'd eventually get that answer if I got to know Nagato well enough.

* * *

**EVENT 3: By helping out the right person, Nagato got a ticket to Talent High School.**

When Nagato and I met up again, the topic turned to Talent High School admissions. Apparently, each prospective Ultimate had a different entrance exam, so to learn more about the process, we started with ours.

"Just wondering, Azuki-san," Nagato said, "but how exactly did Talent High School judge you worthy of being the Ultimate Actress?"

"The recruiters watched all my work," I said, "then called me in for an interview. I had to give an in-person performance to prove I had talent. Luckily for me, it wasn't too hard, since I do acting all the time."

Nagato nodded, but seemed a bit uncomfortable, even if she didn't say why.

"That makes sense," Nagato said. "From what I understand, here's two prerequisites for any aspiring Ultimate, regardless of the school- become famous enough to attract a recruiter's attention, then prove that talent to the administration. It's only natural that anyone good enough to become famous could easily back it up."

"What about you, Nagato?" I said. "How did the Talent High School Administration hear about you?"

"Well..." Nagato said. "The headmistress told me that she knew a parent of a student at my school, who'd told her about me. She didn't say which parent or student, though."

I didn't know why the person in question chose to remain anonymous, but maybe they didn't have to. Maybe Nagato had helped so many people that the headmistress couldn't keep all of them or their parents straight.

"Gotcha," I said. "And what about the test?"

"The headmistress invited me to come to Talent High School for an interview and talent evaluation," Nagato said, "which involved sitting in another room, answering the phone and helping her solve a problem with her laptop. It was a fairly easy task, so I wondered why the headmistress hadn't dealt with it herself."

"Maybe she wanted you to show her what you could do," I said.

"It's possible," Nagato said, "but since it didn't seem like a difficult problem, it wasn't much of a test of a tech support person's skills. I've heard that the tests for talents are supposed to be ones that ordinary people couldn't pass, but that didn't seem to be the case for me."

I shrugged. The people overseeing my exam had suggested that I was nearly into Talent High School based on my work, but I had to demonstrate I wasn't all talk. A lot of people who had an entire portfolio of work, like Sasaki or Kojima, could easily be judged based on that work without having to provide a demonstration.

"Who knows?" I said. "They probably have different tests for different occupations, so it's easier to evaluate certain prospective Ultimates than it is for others."

"You might be right, Azuki-san," Nagato said. "In any case, though, I passed, and was deemed worthy of the Ultimate Tech Support title... and, of course, so was Asakura-san."

"Ah, yes," I said. "Why do you think you got the same title?"

"Perhaps he had a different set of examiners," Nagato said, "one that wasn't aware that I had been already given the title... or maybe he was chosen first."

I shrugged. I could think of any number of reasons why we had two Ultimate Tech Supports, but none of them were Nagato's fault or justified Asakura acting like an asshole toward Nagato.

"I don't think it matters why Asakura got the same title you did," I said. "The important thing is you got the title yourself. Talent High School saw value in you, even if it's in a different field from mine."

"I guess," Nagato said.

Nagato changed the subject, but it left me with a lot to think about. While I had my doubts about how much a Talent High School title was worth, I realized that this was due to my perspective as an actress who'd succeeded a lot on her own right, and that ordinary people like Nagato didn't have as strong of a basis for their self-confidence. That said, I hoped Nagato would one day learn to believe in herself, and that my belief in her might serve as the basis for that.

* * *

**EVENT 4: Nagato doesn't feel as though she measures up to her classmates.**

We talked for a bit about our old schools. I noticed that while Nagato often mentioned people she'd helped in various ways, she never actually called them her friends. She wasn't just being formal with them out of politeness- she wasn't close enough to anyone that she felt comfortable asking to switch to first names and/or drop honorifics.

"Just wondering, Azuki-san," Nagato said, "but did you have friends at your old school before you got your title?"

I nodded, and reflected on the friends I'd once known. Some of them were close friends, while others were just kids I hung out with sometimes. I hadn't seen them in a while, and wondered if they even remembered me, but I hoped we could meet again someday.

"I do," I said. "Unfortunately, we ended up drifting apart, mainly because I was so busy, but it was nice to have them. I'd like to think they're still watching for me and cheering me on. I did end up making new friends while working on various projects, but I'll never forget the ones I had in the past."

"That's nice," Nagato said. "I'm glad you could find people who appreciate you for being who you are, not just the Ultimate Actress."

By now, Nagato had spent enough time with me and learned enough about me that she was no longer just another fan girl of mine. At this point, she was somewhere between a friend and a close friend, a fairly significant accomplishment considering how recently I'd met her.

"That's right- I'm glad," I said, "but why do you ask?"

Nagato sighed.

"To be honest, I've always known that the most well-liked people are also the ones who are good at something," Nagato said. "For example, everyone loved my old school's student council president, who was at the top of the class and a good athlete. While the captain of the basketball team wasn't the best student, she was well-liked for her prowess on the court and for being a model teammate. As for me, while people considered me useful, no one saw me as admirable or 'special' in any way."

"Yeah, but who cares what they think?" I said. "If you're famous for something, lot of your admirers look up to you for superficial reasons, and turn on you if you don't live up to their insanely high standards."

The moment Nagato shook her head, I regretted saying what I did. While I knew fame wasn't all it was cracked up to be, my skill in acting and people's approval of me helped me foster a healthy sense of confidence. It could be difficult to believe in yourself if no one else believed in you.

"Maybe you're right, Azuki-san," Nagato said, "but I often asked myself- what do I have that makes me worth getting to know? What have I accomplished that sets me apart from my peers? Helping people with their problems is one thing, I suppose, but I never thought it set me apart from the crowd very well at my old school... much less this one."

I paused to think for a moment. On the one hand, I couldn't conclusively identify anything Nagato was good at besides tech support, and it was clear that she didn't want or need empty pity. On the other hand, I couldn't accept the idea that Nagato was simply a mediocre and unremarkable individual, not when she was special to me.

"You're right," I said. "At a school where everyone's the best at something, your skill with tech support isn't anything special... and neither is _anyone else's_ Ultimate talents."

"Huh?" Nagato said. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that in the end, if _everyone's_ the best at what they do, then having an Ultimate title isn't anything special," I said. "What _does_ set you apart from the others is what kind of person you are, and I think you're a better person than most of the class."

"You really think so?" Nagato said.

"I sure do," I said. "Even if your giving tech advice to your classmates wasn't impressive, it was kind of you. You helped your schoolmates when they needed it, and if they're at all decent, they'll be grateful for it. If nothing else, you're more likable than that prick Asakura."

Nagato laughed out loud.

"That... isn't saying much," Nagato said as she composed herself.

"Maybe it isn't," I said. "At the same time, if one's accomplishments are like a building- the more you've done, the bigger and more impressive the building is- then the quality of one's character is the foundation. A lot of really talented people accomplish a lot, but if they're not decent human beings, it'll all come crumbling down sooner or later. A small house that's still standing is a lot better than a pile of rubble that used to be a fancy skyscraper with a penthouse suite."

I couldn't help but think of Prime Minister Ishimaru, whose rapid rise to power had been eclipsed by his downfall. The former had been fueled by his talent, but the latter was caused by his personal failings. Maybe if he'd been a good person, rather than a talented one (of course, the two weren't necessarily mutually exclusive), his life hadn't turned out this way.

Nagato smiled and nodded, having evidently gotten my point.

"You saying this means a lot to me, Azuki-san," Nagato said. "Thank you."

I left our meeting in a good mood. As much as I hoped that Nagato would one day learn to believe in herself, having her realize that other people believed in her was a good start.

* * *

**EVENT 5: Nagato is grateful for my friendship and approval, and is starting to believe in herself.**

This time, Nagato and I met up in our cabin and sat on Nagato's bed together.

"You know, Azuki-san, it felt really good hearing what you told me last time," Nagato said, "since I wanted you to acknowledge me most out of anyone here."

"Why's that?" I said. "Because I'm your favorite actress?"

"That's part of the reason," Nagato said, 'but also because of what you've accomplished. You not only mastered an exclusive profession, but became an Ultimate on top of that. If you could acknowledge my strong traits, then I felt like I was worth something."

"Anyone would say the same," I said, "as long as they have an open mind and an open heart, and took the time to get to know you."

Nagato smiled.

"Anyway, I'm touched that you sought my acknowledgment," I said, "but what about your mom? Doesn't she support you?"

"Mom believes in me unconditionally," Nagato said. "She's always rooting for me, and telling me she believes in my potential. I've always had her love, but I wanted to earn the respect of someone else I admire, rather than just have it given to me."

I sighed and shook my head. While I was glad that Nagato's mother was supportive, it was clear that Nagato hadn't yet learned the most important lesson of all.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm glad she believes in you," I said, "and I feel the same way, of course. You should believe in yourself, though."

"I will," Nagato said. "Mom hoped that graduating from this school would be a stepping stone, proof that I could accomplish anything I set my mind to and a way to lead me to future success. I suppose she was trying to tell me the same thing you did, although I didn't understand that until just now."

"Better late than never," I said. "A lot of people go their whole lives without realizing what you just did."

"True," Nagato said. "Now that I understand that lesson you and Mom tried to teach me, I'll never forget it... or the people who believe in me. I'm glad I made a friend like you, Azukii-san."

"That makes two of us, _Chiyuri_ ," I said.

I shook hands with Chiyuri. She had a long road to travel before finding a healthy sense of self-confidence, and it would take more than one friend for her to succeed. Despite that, I hoped I would be the first step on that journey of a thousand miles, and she would meet many more friends like me.

* * *

**Skill:** Troubleshooting: Shows the correct Truth Bullet to use.

 **Nagato's Undergarments:** A surprisingly ordinary pair of white panties.

This is the first of the Free Time Events for Azuki's classmates, and once I'm finished with those, there will be other Free Time Events. **Beware- if you proceed past this point, you'll likely encounter spoilers.**

This series of Free Time Events touches on various issues Nagato has relating to her self-worth, which will be explored more detail later on in the story. Since said Free Time Events could be done at any time, I decided to limit how many details are shared in this series of events.

Azuki's what TV Tropes might call a Jerk With A Heart Of Gold, but which side comes up depends on who she's interacting with. For example, her interactions with Nagato, who probably ends up becoming Azuki's best friend out of the cast, brings out her heart of gold, while Azuki isn't afraid to show hostility to Asakura, whom she's despised since they first met.

Below is Nagato's profile.

**Chiyuri Nagato**

**Talent:** Ultimate Tech Support

 **Birthday:** October 10 (Libra)

 **Height** : 153 cm (5'0")

 **Likes:** Being seen as helpful.

 **Dislikes:** Rude people.

 **Hobby:** Listening to people's problems.

And since there's no other obvious place to put it, here's the profile for Chiyuri's mother.

**Yukari Nagato**

**Talent:** None.

 **Birthday** : March 5 (Pisces)

 **Height:** 175 cm (5'9")

 **Likes** : Spending time with her daughter.

 **Dislikes:** Having trouble with technology

 **Hobby:** Making puns.


	2. Free Time Events: Nobuhiro Higurashi

**Free Time Events: Nobuhiro Higurashi**

**EVENT 1: Higurashi realizes that even if he's the best choice for leader, he isn't necessarily a good one. Because of that, he wants to learn how to lead us better.**

I decided to hang out with Higurashi. He was surprisingly eager to see me, considering that I hadn't voted for him.

"I'm glad you decided to spend time with me today, Azuki-san," Higurashi said. "I was hoping to ask you for guidance on how to better lead our class."

I shrugged.

"If I thought I knew more about that than you, I'd have volunteered to become leader myself," I said. "I'm not sure what exactly I can offer you."

"I think your practical and realistic perspective can help me realize things I might not think of on my own," Higurashi said. "Since I'll need all the help I can get, I'm always willing to listen to you, as well as the other five who chose not to vote for me."

I paused to think over my response. While I wasn't shy about saying what was on my mind, I also knew that I'd have to word my response carefully if I wanted Higurashi to take it to heart. With that in mind, I decided to reiterate the most important point I'd made in the past.

"Like I said earlier, the main problem is that your audience isn't entirely willing to buy what you're selling," I said. "In a killing game, in which _one_ person backstabbing the group can have serious consequences, how many people are going to buy into your asking _all_ of us to not only cooperate, but trust you more than most people?"

"Fair enough," Higurashi said. "That said, my father's a salesman by trade, and he always believed that the best salesmen can convince reluctant customers. It's a bit like selling a glass of water to a fish, you know."

I chuckled derisively and shook my head. It was obvious that Higurashi couldn't see how his own analogy could be interpreted... or maybe he didn't want to.

"So your dad sells people crap they don't need in exchange for money that they do need?" I said. "That sounds like Karita's job."

"Oh, I know that my father's trying to earn a paycheck and keep his company in the black," Higurashi said. "Of course, he also honestly believes that his company is better for his clients than the competition. That sort of confidence isn't baseless- it's backed up by satisfied customers, which helps him win other people over."

So Higurashi wasn't naive enough to think of business as anything other than a means of turning a profit. Of course, while I was cynical about matters that involved personal gain, I didn't think there was anything wrong with wanting to make a living. After all, I did expect to be paid whenever I appeared in a movie, even if I wasn't a greedy bitch who'd demand that the studio pay through the nose for the privilege of having me in their movies.

In short, all of us were out for ourselves, and the killing game was no exception. We all wanted to get out of this killing school trip alive... and some of us probably wanted to survive so badly that they'd kill to achieve that goal.

"And I suppose you think you're better than any other candidate for the leader position?" I said. "Oh, wait, no one else is stepping forward to challenge you, are they?"

"Unfortunately, no," Higurashi said, "but _someone_ has to provide guidance to the group. I may not be perfect, and I'm not even sure I'm the best suited to be leader, but if I'm the only person willing to lead, then that's what I must do. All I ask is that you trust me, or if you disagree with me, tell you what _you_ think should be done."

I paused for a moment. While it was certainly possible that any of us could take advantage of that to manipulate Higurashi or sabotage his efforts, he seemed to honestly trust me, and believed that he had good reason to do so. With that in mind, I decided to be worthy of his trust.

"The former's too much to ask," I said, "but I don't have any problem with the latter, so go right ahead."

"Thank you, Azuki-san," Higurashi said. "Let's talk again some time."

We parted ways for now. I wasn't too optimistic about Higurashi's chances of making a difference as our leader, but he did seem to be serious about it. The odds weren't in his favor, but if he was right and things did work out, then I'd be happy about that.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Higurashi's surprisingly honest, even if he's trying to sell people things.**

Higurashi and I talked about speaking in front of large audiences. After I shared a few anecdotes about press conferences, he seemed to notice something.

"Now that I think about it, Azuki-san," Higurashi said, "don't you have plenty of experience making public appearances?"

"You could say that," I said, "but like when I'm recording a scene, I'm mostly just reading off a script."

"Mostly?" Higurashi said.

"Yeah," I said. "Before I go out, my mom and I go over what questions I'm allowed to answer and what I can or can't say, and she'll give me a cue when I shouldn't answer a question. I even have to dress up a little- from a nice blouse and skirt for semi-casual events to a formal dress for black-tie events- which I try to think of as going in costume."

I turned up my nose as I said the latter part. While I was used to press conferences, that didn't necessarily mean I was always within my comfort zone. In response, Higurashi sighed, apparently having come to understand that I wasn't completely being myself.

"I see," Higurashi said. "Now I understand why you're so cynical about my attempts to lead the group- you don't think I'm being honest with you all."

I shrugged, since Higurashi didn't fully understand the problem.

"That's not entirely true," I said, "since I did mean everything I said earlier about the killing game. But yeah, I do believe that a lot of politicians, celebrities and other people are simply acting in a pre-packaged persona while making public appearances... just like I do."

Higurashi nodded. He'd probably heard about me before the trip started, and if so, he'd ended up having to revise a lot of the notions he had about who I really was.

"In any case," I said, "while I might know about how to keep up a pleasant public image, that means jack shit when you're trying to be a leader. You not only have to be likable and trustworthy, but also know what you're doing. To be honest, you might not be terrible, I don't think you have what it takes to prevent us from murdering each other."

"I get where you're coming from," Higurashi said. "If nothing else, though, I am glad that you're honest with me."

"That sort of thing comes naturally to me," I said. "Besides, I'd rather not saddle the group with an incompetent leader, which is why I didn't run against you."

Higurashi looked a bit disappointed for some reason. True, he had said that he'd hoped someone would oppose him, but I thought he'd expect an opponent he'd trust to do the job.

"I... see," Higurashi said. "In any case, please tell me wherever I go wrong, and if I happen to actually get something right."

"Will do," I said.

We parted ways for the moment, and while I felt like I understood Higurashi better, things weren't nearly resolved yet. The killing game was still going, so time would only tell if Higurashi's efforts had any meaningful effect in reducing the death toll, or if any of us would survive to remember him.

* * *

**EVENT 3: Higurashi supported his senpai in her bid for student council.**

Higurashi and I discussed politicians' campaign strategies. Since being a politician was a far more respectable and well-paying occupation than the thankless job of being "leader" to this group, it was only natural that there would be a lot more competition for the former, and the candidates would have to up their game in order to outdo their competition.

"I'm curious about one thing, Higurashi," I said. "Shouldn't you know about making a platform and stuff like that from your work on your student council?"

"That wasn't my responsibility, Azuki-san," Higurashi said. "While the media credit me for the victory of the candidate I backed, I only wrote and delivered the speeches. She was the one who came up with her vision of how to lead the school, and the majority of the student electorate chose to support that vision."

"So how'd it work out, exactly?" I said.

"When I got to my old high school, I started asking around," Higurashi said, "hoping I could become involved in student government in some way, so that I could use my skills with public speaking for the benefit of the school. While doing so, I met a second-year named Shizuka Izumi."

"Ah, yes," I said. "I think they mentioned her in the article about you. She was your student council president, wasn't' she?"

Higurashi nodded.

"Yes, but when I met her, Izumi-senpai was only her class representative," Higurashi said. "She was interested in running for student council president, but struggled with public speaking. She'd considered joining one of the other candidates, but none of them had any room for her. Besides, she'd already figured out what she wanted to accomplish as president, though, and none of the other candidates really agreed with her."

"So you chose to help her out of some sense of charity?" I said.

"Not exactly," Higurashi said. "Izumi-senpai discussed her platform with me, and after deciding that I liked it, I agreed to join her campaign and work for her administration. After all, it's only natural to want to help any candidate that you respect and trust get elected, right?"

I nodded.

"You could say that," I said. "I guess that if I wasn't an actress, I'd probably help out someone like Izumi if I was in your shoes and I had a skill they could use."

"That's good," Higurashi said. "And what about me?"

For a moment, I hesitated and thought about how best to answer that.

"That's... complicated," I said. "I don't always agree with you, but I know that you're trying to help us, so I have no intention of undermining your efforts. Then again, the problem is that I'm not sure your goal is entirely practical, so I'm not sure how I can best help you with it."

"Fair enough, Azuki-san," Higurashi said. "All I ask is that you work well with the others and not put your own interests ahead of the group's."

"Got it," I said. "Just because this killing game is a competition between everyone else in order to graduate doesn't mean I have to play it."

Higurashi nodded, but even as we agreed on this point, I knew we couldn't stop the killing game by sitting on our hands and doing nothing- Monokuma would do anything to force us to kill. Still, even if Higurashi didn't have all the answers, he was willing to try to find a solution to our problems, and even I had to respect that.

* * *

**EVENT 4: Higurashi is all too aware of his shortcomings as a leader. I can't disagree, but I think he's the best we could ask for.**

Higurashi was unusually quiet when I met up with him. While I was smart enough to realize that his confidence when addressing us as a class was a façade, it was still a bit surprising to see him like this.

"I have a confession to make, Azuki-san," Higurashi said. "When I first heard you say that you had no intention of becoming leader, a part of me was frustrated."

"What do you mean, Higurashi?" I said. "Shouldn't you be happy that you didn't have any rivals to overcome in order to become leader, especially since they might not have shared your good intentions?"

"That's not it," Higurashi said. "You don't _have_ to support me, but I'd hoped that if you didn't, you'd run against me, with your own vision of how to lead the group and get us out of here."

I sighed and shook my head.

"Ignoring the fact that I don't have an alternative idea, there's a problem with that," I said. "A rival candidate for leader would've potentially divided us into factions, which is the last thing we need right now. After all, the entire point of you being leader is to ostensibly unite us under one banner."

"You have a point," Higurashi said, "but that's only if both leaders were unwilling to think of the group. I was hoping that you might have a better vision of how to lead than I did, at which point I would capitulate to you, and ask my followers to do the same."

So while Higurashi wanted to be elected democratically, he still expected those who supported him to do as he said. That wasn't too unreasonable, since elected officials were still authority figures, but I had to wonder if he had the power to make his followers obey him.

"That's not exactly realistic," I said, "but I think I understand wanting a better leader. I mean, I sure as hell hoped that you would be better for the job than you actually are."

Higurashi laughed out loud, albeit mirthlessly.

"Well, what do you know, Azuki-san?" Higurashi said. "We actually agree on something."

"Yeah," I said. "But really, as backhanded as that sounded, I know that you're a hell of a lot more suited to this leader thing than I am... not that it's saying much."

Higurashi nodded, then thought for a moment. He wasn't really the type to speak from the cuff, even if he couldn't always give pre-prepared speeches in normal conversations, but he seemed to be thinking unusually intently.

"Speaking of which..." Higurashi said, "Izumi-senpai told me that when she came to the school, a year ahead of me, the student council had been poorly run for years- she'd heard of it from her older brother, who'd graduated the year before she came. She was too polite to say it openly, but she believed her opponents were unlikely to improve much, and she wasn't wrong about that. She wasn't completely confident in her chances of winning, but she knew things had to change."

"But you believed in her, didn't you?" I said.

"I did," Higurashi said. "She needed someone to support her on her bid for the presidency, and I honestly thought she was the best choice. In the end, she won the support of the school and served well as president. This all became possible because someone believed in her- it didn't have to be me, but she needed _someone_."

I paused for a moment.

"Believing in someone, huh?" I said. "That's a tough sell in here."

"I know," Higurashi said. "Of course, my job is just asking you all to believe that it's possible for us to survive- and maybe even escape- together. You want that, don't you?"

"I do," I said. "The only question is whether we can actually achieve it."

"True," Higurashi said. "I suppose it all comes down to belief, in the end."

Higurashi and I parted ways for now, leaving me with a lot to think about. I still didn't think Higurashi had what it took to prevent anyone from committing murder- in fact, no one did- but I couldn't think of anyone better suited to the job. The best possible leader would need to possess principles, charisma and unwavering morals, and Higurashi had all those qualities. Maybe that wasn't enough to get us all through the killing game, but he was certainly better than the rest of us.

* * *

**EVENT 5: I might not always agree with Higurashi, but I'm glad to call him a friend.**

Higurashi invited me over to his room. His half had a highly professional looking campaign poster for Izumi's candidacy for student council president showing her picture- she was a girl with long dark hair who wore a blue sailor fuku with a red neckerchief.

"I've been talking with some of my other critics," Higurashi said. "Kirishima-kun is a good source of dispassionate and logical advice, while Himemiya-san is unafraid to say what's on her mind. As for the others... they aren't interested."

"I didn't think so," I said. "There's a difference between constructive criticism and just being an asshole."

"Quite true, Azuki-san," Higurashi said. "If I thought you were in the latter group, I wouldn't have bothered asking you for advice. I'm glad you didn't coddle me, but I'm also grateful that you didn't insult me, either."

In my first voice acting role, as a the main character's little sister on a live-action TV drama, I'd gotten a variety of advice. Some of my critics made reasonable points, saying that I was too emotionally restrained for the character. Others... weren't so reasonable. One person even claimed I'd gotten the part by sleeping with the director, which was a really fucked up thing to say when you considered that I was in _elementary school_ when the shooting took place. Because of that, my mom decided to vet which feedback made its way to me.

I also thought about how I'd thought of Higurashi. I didn't regret questioning him or challenging his arguments, but I did believe that he deserved more than that from me. He wasn't perfect, but he was good, so it was time to tell him that.

"You know, Higurashi, I've been thinking," I said. "I still think trying to lead this group is a losing battle, but if there's anyone who can do it, it's someone who has strong beliefs, charisma and a selfless regard for the well-being of others- namely, you. This probably isn't what you wanted to hear, but..."

"That's fine, Azuki-san," Higurashi said. "It's probably the highest praise I'll get from you, so it means a lot to me. Thank you very much."

Higurashi bowed.

"You're welcome," I said. "I think we're all at least a little out of our depth in a situation like this, but it's admirable that you're actually willing to try to do something about it. Maybe if everyone was as idealistic and selfless as you, the killing game would never get off the ground."

"That's possible," Higurashi said. "Of course, I don't think our classmates are necessarily bad people- they merely want to survive. That's why I don't want to see any murders and executions, and why I hope we get out of this together."

"If we do get out of here, look me up," I said. "If you end up running for office, I could give you an endorsement... if I think you know what you're doing, of course."

"I'd appreciate it," Higurashi said. "A famous actress' endorsement could be quite helpful, and if I get one from you, I'll know I've earned it."

Higurashi and I shook hands. I'd once thought he was too naïve to be effective as a leader, but he trusted me enough to hear me out and listen to my opinions, and I ended up responding in kind.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Persuasive Speaker:** Makes it easier to shift the mood in your favor in Rebuttal Showdown.

 **Nobuhiro's Undergarments:** A comfortable pair of briefs that's especially well-suited for standing for long periods of time.

Higurashi is meant to contrast to Mitamura from my previous fic. He's less effective as a leader when it comes to commanding respect, partly because he has more open critics, but he's also more idealistic. Similarly, Azuki is also more critical of him from the get-go than Miura was toward Mitamura, but while Miura became more and more aware of Mitamura's flaws over time, Azuki gradually gains a grudging respect for Higurashi.

Without spoiling too much, Higurashi's self-confidence issues grow over time, since he lives long to see the killing game claim the lives of his classmates (which isn't necessarily all that long), and is forced to confront his failure to prevent that.

**Nobuhiro Higurashi**

**Talent:** Ultimate Public Speaker

 **Birthday:** April 4 (Aries)

 **Height:** 175 cm (5'8")

 **Likes** : A good cup of coffee.

 **Dislikes** : Hecklers

 **Hobby:** Reading about politics


	3. Free Time Events: Satoshi Karita

**Free Time Events: Satoshi Karita**

**EVENT 1: I don't trust Karita and I'm not sure what I can believe, but apparently, he's fine with that.**

Against my better judgment, I decided to hang out with Karita.

"Thanks for spending time with me, Azuki-san," Karita said, "but I've got to say- you seem kind of on edge around me."

"Who wouldn't be?" I said. "After all, your talent is related to lying to and manipulating people. How am I supposed to trust anything you say?"

"Good question," Karita said, "but it's not as though I lie literally all the time, like the knave in a Knights and Knaves problem. The best lies contain enough truth to be believable. After all, when you fish, you put a piece of real bait on the hook."

I furrowed my brow skeptically. It seemed counter-intuitive, but it seemed reasonable enough to be true... which might be what Karita wanted me to think.

"Why don't you give me an example?" I said.

"Let's say that I tried to convince you that the sky was brown," Karita said. "By looking outside, you could see that I'm lying through my teeth, and then you wouldn't listen to anything else I'd have to say, even if it was true."

"Of course I wouldn't," I said. "Only an idiot would tell an obvious lie like that if they weren't trying to screw with me."

Karita chuckled, probably regretting that example, but that was beside the point for now. It was a bit like the story of the boy who cried "Wolf!", but in that case, it took a couple false alarms before the villagers stopped believing the boy. Of course, I had to wonder why the boy thought it was a good idea to lie about the wolf in the first place, but my mom, who told me that story, couldn't answer that question.

"On the other hand, let's say I'm trying to convince you to buy some kind of snake oil-based remedy," Karita said. "I could provide some demonstrable evidence that the treatment actually helped, and you'd be convinced enough to purchase it. By the time you realized it wasn't doing any good, you'd have handed your money over to me, and there would be nothing you can do about it."

"Except warn potential customers about you, but I guess that's beside the point," I said. "You're trying to say that not _everything_ you say is a lie, is it?"

"That's right," Karita said with a smile. "You seem like you're smart enough to tell what's true and what's false, and to know that trusting me blindly is a bad idea. I don't think you'll have _too_ much to worry about with me."

I was a certain amount of truth to what Karita was saying, but I hesitated to believe it too much. After all, it was likely that this bit of praise was intended to flatter me into lowering my guard. On the other hand, since I'd never actually seen or heard about him conning everyone, except for the failed attempt that resulted in him getting into Talent High School, maybe I was just being paranoid.

"If you say so," I said. "Well, I guess I could make some time for you."

"Great!" Karita said. "I'll talk to you later."

Karita parted ways with me for the moment, leaving me to wonder what I was getting into. Then again, while I could trust him as far as I could throw him, I might be able to learn tings from listening to him.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Karita's a rather cynical individual who thinks acting is a lie. That said, he seems to think it can be fine to believe what you want, as long as you don't let yourself get tricked.**

I spent some more time with Karita. He wasn't much for talking about himself, and I was hesitant to divulge any personal details to him, so we mostly made small talk. He did ask me about the movies I starred in, asking whether they were mainly fiction- they were, and even the work that were based on real life, like The Tragedy of Julius Caesar, took some liberties with history.

"I'm curious about something, Azuki-san," Karita said. "Since you're the Ultimate Actress, aren't you a liar, too, just like the people who make the movies you starred in?"

I firmly shook my head. As much as the asinine comment pissed me off, I tried not to show it, lest Karita think he'd gotten under my skin.

"Let me explain it to you," I said. "Liars, as you probably know, want people to accept falsehoods as the truth- for example, that the painting that they're charging millions of yen for is a genuine work of art, or that an innocent 'fall guy' is guilty of the crime that the liar committed. If people became aware of the truth, then no one would buy the painting or believe that the fall guy is guilty."

"That's obvious enough," Karita said. "And what about people who make fiction?"

"It's different," I said. "You know the story's not true- or that it's only _based on_ real events- but if it's well-written enough, you can set aside your disbelief and connect with the story and characters. If an actress gives a good enough performance, you can let yourself forget that she's just a person acting out a scene and reading from a script. If a monster looks impressive enough, then you can pretend that it's computer generated or whatnot. You know from the start that the events unfolding on screen never actually happened, but they can still be meaningful to you."

While I was pretty cynical about adding special effects just to wow and draw in viewers, I had to admit that when done well, they helped make movies more realistic and give rise to new possibilities. In the end, the most important thing was telling a good story, and I had to wonder what Shakespeare could have accomplished with a big budget and modern technology.

"So fiction can be moving, even if it's not true," Karita said. "Well, I guess some people really do believe anything- otherwise, I wouldn't have a job."

I let off a long sigh. If Karita was being honest with me, he clearly wasn't very interested in fiction.

"Just wondering, Karita," I said, "but did you ever believe in Santa Claus?"

"Nope," Karita said. "I'm guessing you did, though, right?"

"Back when I was little," I said. "My mom told me stories about a fat man with a white beard who flies through the sky on a sleigh pulled by reindeer, giving presents to good little boys and girls. Since she's a single mom, our holiday celebrations were a bit more... modest than most other people, so you could tell that Santa was giving me the short end of the stick, but for a kid, it felt nice to believe in him."

"I guess so," Karita said.

Karita's answer seemed a bit hesitant, and I wondered what kind of childhood he'd had.

"You guess?" I said.

"That's what I said," Karita said, apparently trying to change the subject. "In cases like these, you can believe what you want, but it won't change reality. The same goes for religion, too. If you too strongly fixate on what you think is true, you end up being blinded to the truth, and easy to manipulate."

I shook my head. I didn't share Nagato's faith, but I did respect in her ability to believe in something, even in a time like this. More to the point, I had to wonder- what, if anything, did Karita believe in?

"But surely even you have things you believe in, don't you?" I said.

"Maybe," Karita said. "It's just that I'm open to revising my beliefs."

When you're so good at lying, I suppose it only makes sense to be this cynical. I didn't think Karita was _completely_ wrong, since I was more than a little cynical myself, but at the same time, I couldn't completely accept his worldview, either.

* * *

**EVENT 3: Karita** **is cynical about our leaders, including Higurashi. In fact, he doesn't trust anyone.**

Karita and I talked about people who made a career out of lying. Naturally, the subject turned to politicians.

"You know, Azuki-san, I think Higurashi-kun could be a good politician someday," Karita said.

"Why do you say that?" I said. "He barely got the majority vote in our class, even though he was the only choice available. In the real world, he wouldn't stand much of a chance against a politician with a dedicated base of support, a huge war chest of funds and a knack for PR."

"I said 'could' and 'someday,' Azuki-san," Karita said. "He's got a long way to go, but he has a silver tongue, so all it takes is learning the other skills and obtaining the resources he needs. He could fool as many people as he needs to in order to get into office, and maybe he could even manipulate his fellow politicians into helping him achieve his goals."

I glared at Karita. Higurashi and I had our differences, but out of everything that Karita could say about Higurashi, this so-called compliment pissed me off the most.

"Say what you will about Higurashi not being cut out for leading us," I said, "but you can't really deny that he's honest about this. He's idealistic to a fault, and isn't the type to use his persuasive skills to exploit us."

"Or maybe he wants us to think that," Karita said. "A squeaky-clean image is a politician's best asset, so they'd do practically anything to keep their reputation intact."

I sighed. I couldn't really argue with Karita, but I didn't agree with him, either. Neither of us had much concrete evidence to prove whether Higurashi was or was not that kind of person, respectively, so there was no point in arguing about it.

"If you say so," I said, "but if you're convinced that Higurashi's conning us, what do you think his goal is? He clearly doesn't have anything to gain when it comes to money or power, so is it maybe to put himself in a more advantageous position when he tries to graduate?"

"I can't say for sure," Karita said, "but that possibility definitely occurred to me. Whenever trouble happens, the finger of blame will be less likely to fall on him than it will be to fall on someone like, you know, the con artist. But all of us want to get out of here, so anyone could try to graduate."

"But not everyone does," I said. "Why do you think that is?"

Karita was quiet for a moment, probably trying to decide if I was asking him an honest question or was screwing with him.

"Probably because Monokuma promises to punish anyone who can't get away with murder," Karita said. "As awful as this killing game is, it isn't quite a fate worse than death. Sure, we could die, but for many of us, getting stabbed, bludgeoned on the head or murdered in some other way isn't as bad as what Monokuma will do to us if we get convicted.'

"That's one reason," I said. "Other people couldn't handle the idea of sacrificing everyone here besides themselves to escape. I'm not saying everyone listens to their consciences, but some people do have enough of a heart that they wouldn't let everyone else die to save themselves."

As cynical as I was, I still believed that some people did honestly care about right and wrong. I wasn't fond of Karita, Asakura, Kojima or Kirishima, but I wouldn't let any of them die just to save myself, simply because I believed murder was never justified, not even when you didn't like the person. I was sure at least some of my classmates felt the same way, and the only question was whether the pressures of the killing game would push them to the breaking point and cause them to cast aside those principles.

"Maybe," Karita said. "I guess it all comes down to who's serious and who's faking it. For all we know, Nagato-sensei could be in the latter group."

I snorted and shook my head.

"Yeah, because she's in a prime position to manipulate us, stuck in her cell like that," I said. "She can only make suggestions to her daughter and Higurashi, and can't even see whether we acted on them."

"I guess you're right," Karita said, "but I wouldn't even trust her unconditionally if she was my mother. No one can be fully trusted, and not just because this is a killing game."

We let the discussion drop. Karita wasn't wrong to distrust his classmates, but excessive suspicion could blind people just as easily as excessive naivete. I still didn't fully trust Karita, and thought there was a chance he'd kill someone in order to graduate, but at the very least, he seemed smart and cautious enough not to blow his one chance for graduation.

* * *

**EVENT 4: Karita constructed his own identity from scratch, and believes most other people have their own personae. This must be why he doesn't put much trust in people.**

Karita and I talked about various celebrities, as well as the less than savory rumors that hinted at their true characters.

"Earlier, you mentioned people's reputations," I said. "Now that practically everyone in Japan knows you're a con artist, wouldn't you say your good name has _already_ been ruined?"

Karita chuckled.

"Who said this is my real name?" Karita said. "It's true that Satoshi Karita being known as the Ultimate Con Artist could be troublesome, but I could just cast aside that name like a snake shedding its skin, and whip up a new identity. You didn't think I'd be dumb enough to con people using my real name, did you?"

"Ah, right," I said. "I should've expected as much from the Ultimate Con Artist."

"Then again, it's not like making a new identity is easy," Karita said, "since it involves forging a lot of paperwork. One false move, and everything collapses like a house of cards, forcing me to go through the whole process all over again."

I paused to think for a moment. His point wasn't too surprising in and of itself, but it did provide me with a few insights about him.

"You know, Karita, I think that explains a lot," I said. "If you think of public personae as artificial, and can dispose of yours as easily as a plastic poncho, it's only natural you'd be really cynical about people who work hard to maintain a good reputation."

"I just see them for what they are, Azuki-san," Karita said. "I'm not the type to label them hypocrites or phonies- I just don't think they're as good as most people think they are."

"But surely people break character sometimes, don't they?" I said. "Not only am I not acting all the time, but I also have to shed my public persona sometimes, such as when I'm with my mom. Nagato-sensei has to act like a teacher in the class, but when she's alone with her daughter, she gets to be a mom. Going off that, I'm sure you know your parents' true character, don't you?"

"Oh, I sure, do," Karita said, his voice dripping contempt. "In fact..."

Karita stopped short.

"Never mind," Karita said. "I guess we can just say that nobody's perfect, right?"

Karita left me with a lot to think about. Nothing could justify scamming people for a living, but maybe he believed that he wasn't much worse than the other people whose reputations were bolstered by lies.

* * *

**EVENT 5: After hearing Karita's life story, only for him to claim that it's a lie, I honestly don't know what about Karita is real or false anymore.**

Karita met up with me and seemed unusually somber.

"I've got a story to tell you, Azuki-san," Karita said. "It's a pretty sad one, too, so it's not one I tell to just anyone. I think you're the first person I've told it to, since you're the least likely to go and tell it to other people."

"Go ahead," I said, and we took a seat at the nearest available location.

Karita cleared his throat and paused for a moment before beginning.

"You see, my mom got taken advantage of by a con artist," Karita said, "and ended up letting him swindle her out of our savings. My dad got into an argument with her and stabbed her with a knife, killing her, before jumping out our apartment window to his death- I don't know if it was because he couldn't live with what he did or so he wouldn't get arrested for murder. Since he didn't know I was home, I was there to witness all of it."

My jaw dropped open and I stammered for a few seconds.

"That's completely fucked up..." I said.

Karita somberly nodded.

"I thought you'd say that," Karita said. "Virtually anyone said something like that- well, not quite that bluntly- if only so they could _seem_ like they felt sorry for me. After all, feeling sorry for orphans is the 'good' thing to do, not to mention something that doesn't require you to actually _do_ anything."

"So no one helped you?" I said.

Karita shook his head.

"I didn't have any relatives who would take me in," Karita said, "so I ended up in the foster care system, and my foster parents... weren't so great, so the rest of my childhood wasn't much better. On the bright side, since I knew who'd conned my mom, I then set out to become a con artist and find the one who ruined my life."

"Did you succeed?" I said.

Karita had a bittersweet smile.

"I definitely became a good con artist, even if I never did find the guy I was looking for," Karita said. "But on one job, I saw that my mark- a nice but somewhat gullible woman- wasn't just married, but had a young son. I realized I was becoming the same man I hated so much, and couldn't go through with it."

So perhaps even Karita had a conscience, or at the very least, didn't have the stomach for certain cons. Of course, regardless of which was the case, neither of them stopped him from becoming the Ultimate Con Artist.

"You see, 'Karita' isn't the name of my biological or foster family, but that of the con artist himself," Karita said. "By taking on his name, I'm acknowledging that I've become him, in a manner of speaking. I can't go back to being the person I was before, so all that's left is for me to track down the other 'Karita' and have my revenge. After that? I really can't say..."

I remained silent. I'd always assumed that Karita was a bad person pretending to be a decent one, but apparently, even Karita knew how bad he'd become... and couldn't do anything about it. Maybe my judgment of him wasn't wrong, but maybe I was oversimplifying things.

Weirdly enough, Karita looked even more uncomfortable than I was, until he laughed awkwardly.

"Gotcha there," Karita said. "That story I told you just now was all a lie. Did you seriously believe me?"

I let out a long sigh. Did Karita feel bad about lying to me, or had he shared more than he was willing to? I'd probably never know.

"I'm not so sure," I said. "I can think of a few reasons why you'd make up a story like that, but I can't think of any reason why you'd admit to the lie so easily... assuming _that_ isn't a lie."

"Neither can most people," Karita said. "But let's be honest here. How many of the people you know, including those who confide in you, are being completely honest with you? We've got a traitor who hid the fact that they knew we'd be coming to a killing game, so there's probably at least one _other_ liar in here besides me."

"Do you think I might be the person in question?" I said.

Karita shrugged, but then grinned.

"I don't know," Karita said. "Still, I'm hoping that you're not the traitor, since it's been fun talking with you, and it'd be a shame if everything you told me was a lie."

I couldn't help but feel touched, despite myself. Maybe Karita was lying about this, since he couldn't be trusted, and I wasn't sure what to believe about him. Still, it felt good in a way to know that our time together had meant something to him, so while we weren't exactly friends, maybe we did have a bond of sorts. I still didn't like or trust him, but I couldn't help but hope that he'd make it out alive, too.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Skill: White Lie:** Reduces the Influence Gauge penalty for lying.

 **Satoshi's Undergarments:** While it looks like a regular pair of briefs, it gives its wearers good luck, a long life and the ability to find their soul mate. Available for the cheap price of 1 million yen, payable in 10 monthly installments.

This is Satoshi Karita, one of the three least pleasant people in the class (the others being Kirishima and Asakura), and proof that Azuki doesn't become friends with all of her classmates.

Karita's "backstory" is a shout out to Sawyer's from Lost. It's up to you to decide whether he's telling the truth, and what his reasons might be for lying about it and/or (possibly falsely) admitting to lying may be.

The point about fiction is also a jab against V3, particularly equating fiction with lies as part of the main theme of truth and lies.

I also tried to ensure that Karita wasn't too similar to Kokichi from V3, the resident liar of a game based on the theme of truth and lies. While Kokichi is willing to let others hate him, Karita does realize that he'll never be liked, but tries not to be hated, either. As for his role in the story, you'll have to wait and see.

**Satoshi Karita**

**Talent:** Ultimate Con Artist

 **Height:** 169 cm (5'6")

 **Birthday:** June 30 (Cancer)

 **Likes:** Celebrity gossip

 **Dislikes:** Guns **  
**

 **Hobby:** Role-playing.


	4. Free Time Events: Kanae Tsukimura

**Free Time Events: Kanae Tsukimura**

**EVENT 1: The Himemiya family took Tsukimura in and raised her as a servant. I have my doubts about that, but she's completely loyal to the family.**

I hung out with Tsukimura. She struck me as polite, but also a bit more relaxed than she was around Himemiya, using "-san" on me, rather than "-sama." According to her, both she and Himemiya tended to speak even more formally while at home.

"So, Tsukimura, how does a girl like you become a servant?" I said. "It doesn't seem like something many girls would choose."

"You're right about that, Azuki-san," Tsukimura said. "In fact, I'd never have even considered it if not for my family."

"What do you mean?" I said. "Is it a family tradition?"

"It is," Tsukimura said. "The Tsukimura family has served the Himemiya family for generations, starting when my distant ancestor pledged his and his descendants' service to them to repay a debt of honor. My family has continued serving the Himemiyas ever since."

I frowned. Some people suspected that my mom made me to become an actress to ride my coattails to success, but I'd made it clear that I was acting because I wanted to. On the other hand, those people's suspicions weren't completely unfounded, since I'd heard some pretty fucked up rumors about a mom prostituting herself and her daughter so the latter could get parts.

"In other words, he basicallly sold his kids, his grandkids and a lot of others who weren't even a sperm in their dads' nutsacks into slavery?" I said. "Talk about good family values."

"I wouldn't call it 'slavery,'" Tsukimura said. "The value of service is instilled in us from a young age, but we are free to choose our own paths in adulthood. Some of us have parted ways with the family, but most of us have inherited their values of loyalty and filial piety, and serve the Himemiyas for as long as we live."

"So you do have a choice, but they raised you so that you'll choose the Himemiyas anyway," I said. "Sounds kind of like brainwashing to me."

Tsukimura firmly shook her head. At this point, even I was starting to wonder if I was going too far, but if she was offended she was still polite about it.

"Maybe it might seem that way to you," Tsukimura said, "but I personally know what it's like to be indebted to the family. My mother died giving birth to me and my father fell ill and passed away when I was five years old, so the Tsukimuras took me in."

"As a servant," I said.

Tsukimura nodded, apparently glad I was no longer calling her a "slave," at the very least.

"I suppose that's true," Tsukimura said, "but honestly, it isn't so hard to see why I, the last of the Tsukimuras, would feel the need to honor my parents and ancestors' pledge of service, or repay the Himemiya family for taking me in. The former is the only connection I have left to my birth family, and the latter is my way of showing gratitude to my adoptive family."

"If you say so," I said. "I understand that you're grateful, but it does sound like the Himemiyas aren't treating you very much like a daughter."

"That's only partially true," Tsukimura said. "Every member of the family has their own duties to perform, and I am no different. Himeno-sama's eldest brother, the young master, is expected to one day succeed the master as head of the family, and has been groomed for that position since before I was born. The young master's other siblings are unlikely to inherit the position, but they also represent the family, and are expected to bring pride to it. With that in mind, I would be disheartened if they did not expect anything of me- fulfilling their expectations is my way of repaying them."

"I guess our families are just different, then," I said. "My mom wants me to become famous, but not for her own benefit- it's so that I can achieve my dream and support myself as an adult. That doesn't mean I'm not going to take care of her in her old age, though."

"I'm sure your mother's glad to have a daughter like you, Azuki-san," Tsukimura said. "I'd certainly do the same if I was in your position."

So in spite of our different backgrounds, Tsukimura thought we had something in common, and she wasn't wrong. I understood where Tsukimura was coming from, in wanting to repay the family that took her in, and just hoped that would earn her better treatment.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Tsukimura has known Himemiya since she was young. She likes Himemiya, but can't call her a friend.**

I spoke with Tsukimura about her duties, which were apparently just standard household chores- cleaning, making tea, gardening, pet care, laundry, taking out the trash and recycling, and a few other errands. When I asked if that was all, she smiled and asked if they serve as Acting Prime Minister or something, which she said was "outside the job description of a maid, to put it mildly." Since I found the idea as fucked up as she did, I got a good laugh out of it.

"So, let me ask about something else," I said. "You've known Himemiya- that is, Himeno- for most of your life, right?"

While the well-bred and formal Himemiya wasn't ready for first names at this point, it would probably be common sense to call her by her first name when talking about her family.

"Since we were young, yes," Tsukimura said. "I was first introduced to Himeno-sama as a young girl, while my father was still alive, and told I would be spending much of my time serving her once I was ready to do so. Most of the Himemiya children have one servant specifically assigned to help them, and it just so happened that Himeno-sama and I were roughly the same age."

"Do they get along?" I said.

"They do," Tsukimura said. "Servants are expected to respect their masters and mistresses. In return, the Himemiya family treats its servants and employees well out of a social obligation, which you may have heard of before."

"Noblesse oblige," I said. "Then again, they don't treat you as _equals_ , do they?"

"No," Tsukimura said, "but that shouldn't be too surprising. In society, many relationships are fundamentally unequal- parents and children, teachers and students, employers and employees, and so on and so forth. The latter owe the former respect, but the former must not abuse their power or take the latter's loyalty for granted. At the very least, that's how it's supposed to work."

Tsukimura's tone was hesitant, so she realized that it didn't always work that way in real life. Of course, since I also had to respect and obey my mom, my teachers and my superiors, I was grateful that for the most part, they treated me well.

"Himeno-sama, however, tries to treat me as an equal," Tsukimura said, "since although she is my mistress, she never explicitly orders me to do anything. For example, she asked if she could call me 'Kanae,' rather than assuming, albeit not unreasonably, that it would be fine with me. She prefers that I not use '-sama' on her, but realizes that not only am I used to calling her that, but I will get in trouble if I don't show her respect."

"Good for her," I said, "but what's her reasoning?"

"Simply put, because she knows I wouldn't be able to say no to her," Tsukimura said. "She once described power as like a highly addictive drug, and said that she knew that if she ever took advantage of her position as my mistress, she'd never be able to stop. She's such a kind person to show such consideration to someone like me."

I shrugged.

"I don't know about that," I said. "Look, I'm not saying she isn't a good person- I like her, too- but if she took advantage of your obedience to her, that'd make her a selfish bitch."

Tsukimura sighed.

"I know why you feel that way," Tsukimura said, "and you're not wrong. However, since I don't have the right to expect an equal friendship with her, I am simply grateful that she is kind to me."

"If you say so," I said. "I guess if I had to end up as anyone's servant, I'd pick Himemiya."

"Me too," Tsukimura said.

We let the subject drop, but I left the meeting feeling depressed. I'd always thought of Tsukimura as equal to the others, and Himemiya felt the same way, so why couldn't Tsukimura accept Himemiya's friendship? She'd said it was more than she deserved, not something she didn't want, so maybe a part of her actually agreed with me.

* * *

**EVENT 3: Tsukimura has long thought of herself as inferior to the rest of the Himemiya family. She appreciates Himeno's kindness, but can't see her as an equal.**

Tsukimura asked me if there were any jobs someone like her could do around a movie studio. I had to be honest with her, so the short answer was "not many." She didn't seem to mind, though, and was glad that some of the rich people who worked for showbiz needed housekeepers and maids.

"I've noticed something," I said. "You've never once called Himemiya's parents- your adoptive parents- 'Mother' or 'Father.'"

"There are a few reasons for that," Tsukimura said. "First, while they raised me, I feel it would be disrespectful to my parents to call them that. After all, I'm still a Tsukimura, not a Himemiya, not to mention the only person still capable of carrying on my family name and fulfilling their duty."

I shrugged. While I still didn't think much of the Tsukimuras following a tradition that a dead guy had established without their permission, I could sympathize with the youngest Tsukimura feeling loyalty to her family.

"But that's not the only reason, right?," I said. "What else is there?"

Tsukimura nodded.

"The other reason," Tsukimura said, "is because while I am being raised by the family, I am not worthy of carrying on the name. Since the family is an old-fashioned one, the family head's eldest son is at the top of the succession order, and he's followed by the other sons, then the daughters. Of course, if one of the head's daughters were to inherit the family, her husband would actually run it, since the family is still only run by men."

I laughed bitterly. I could get why they wanted to keep leadership in the family within the family, as well as grooming their successor for leadership since childhood, but keeping the rule that females need not apply was downright backwards. It reminded me of a time when women couldn't play act in the theater, even as female characters.

"So your worthiness to lead the family is determined by whether you have a dick," I said. "Brilliant system."

Tsukimura giggled.

"You're not wrong, Azuki-san," Tsukimura said. "Who knows? We might one day get a hermaphrodite at the head of the family."

"I wouldn't put it past them," I said, "but maybe we might see this happen if the family goes on long enough... or maybe they'll actually let a woman lead the family, if they run out of kids that they can use as successors."

Everything had to change sooner or later, no matter how much people valued tradition. The Tsukimuras were no exception, and sooner or later, they'd have to get with the program and accept that women weren't worth any less than men.

"It's possible," Tsukimura said, "but in the very unlikely event that none of the family head's children are still alive or worthy to inherit the headship- which has _never_ happened in the Himemiyas' centuries-long history- the successor would be picked from one of the family head's relatives, or, failing that, they would adopt a worthy heir. They would never consider bestowing that honor upon a servant, and especially not a _girl_ , even if she was adopted."

"Well, that sucks," I said.

"I actually don't mind," Tsukimura said. "Even assuming that I were considered a trueborn daughter of the Himemiya family and eligible to inherit the family, since Himeo-sama was born about a month and a half before me, I'd only inherit the family if she and all her older siblings died or were disinherited. Himeno-sama is not close to her siblings, but she would be heartbroken if anything like that happened to them, just like I'd be if she suffered such a fate."

The way Tsukimura put the possibility of the elder Himemiya siblings dying made it sound like she expected it might come from being hit by a car or having a terminal illness, rather than being assassinated by a jealous rival, like what happened to the prince's older brother on Summer's End. A part of me thought that having multiple siblings around to compete for an inherited title was asking for trouble, but it was nice to have a backup in case the first-born died or wasn't cut out for inheriting the title.

"I know," I said, "but it seems kind of unfair that you don't even have a shot because of who you are- your gender, your family and your social status."

"I thought you'd say that," Tsukimura said, "since you've made your feelings about the Himemiya family abundantly clear."

I sighed and chose my next words carefully. Tsukimura was a nice girl, but my judgmental attitude was clearly wearing on her nerves, even if she was too polite to say it straight out.

"Don't get me wrong," I said. "I respect your loyalty to the Himemiya family, but I don't really have any respect for the family itself... with one or two exceptions, depending on how you count. I get that you're trying to repay them, but it seems like they should also repay you."

"Oh, I appreciate that sentiment, Azuki-san," Himemiya said. "Speaking of which, does the 'one or two exceptions' also refer to the mistress- Himeno-sama's mother?"

"No," I said, "since I was thinking of you and Himeno. I'm guessing I should add her to the list, though?"

"You should," Tsukimura said. "The mistress was the one who proposed taking me in, since she'd been friends with my mother. Because of that, she encouraged me to become friends with Himeno-sama, and treats me as a daughter, rather than a servant, as much as she's able- after all, she must obey her husband, just like I do. She even said I can call her 'Mother' when we're alone."

I then thought back to how Nagato was expected to treat her mother while at school. I'd since come to realize that Nagato-sensei had her reasons for doing this, since she was just another teacher for the school who had to do her job. Himeno's mother was the same in some regards, but at least she thought of her ward.

"But you don't?" I said.

"As I said before, I'm not sure it would be right," Tsukimura said, "not when I must honor my parents' memory, or after being taught to think of myself as lesser than her other children. But I did appreciate the offer, and the fact that the mistress would see me as her daughter."

I once again had a lot to think about, and found myself questioning my assumptions. All this time, I'd thought the Himemiya family was to blame, but while they probably helped foster her sense of inferiority, Tsukimura was the one who'd internalized those values. Something had to change, but that something was the way Tsukimura saw herself.

* * *

**EVENT 4: Tsukimura wants to see Himemiya as an equal and a friend, and only needs the courage to take that step.**

We talked about our old schools for a little while. While Tsukimura and Himemiya's school had been a school for rich girls, it was surprisingly normal- just a higher than average price tag for tuition, a more generous budget and better facilities than most schools.

"I've been thinking about what you said, Azuki-san," Tsukimura said. "I appreciate your treating me as an equal, and the blunt and passionate way you make your beliefs clear."

"It's nothing, really," I said. "I'm doing what anyone else would do... although I do have to admit that I'm impressed by your dedication to your job and the Himemiya family."

"Thank you," Tsukimura said. "It means a lot to hear that from you."

"Yeah," I said. "But anyhow, surely I'm not the only outsider to treat you this way?"

Tsukimura hesitantly shook her head.

"No," Tsukimura said. At my and Himeno-sama's old school, I made quite a few friends, who were able to look past my being a servant. In fact, I had somewhat more success on that front than Himeno-sama, who's a bit choosier with her friends."

I thought about Himemiya for a bit. While we got along pretty well, I could see that her bluntness could be potentially difficult to deal with. As hypocritical as that sounds, I know I don't have room to talk- in fact, I'm speaking from personal experience.

"At the same time, though," Tsukimura said, "the idea of my being equal to Himeno-sama a difficult concept for me to grasp. I was raised to think of myself as a servant, to devote myself to Himeno-sama and my other betters, putting aside my needs and desires in order to fulfill theirs. As such, a part of me thought it was wrong to even think of Himeno-sama as an equal."

"Even if that's what Himemiya and her mother want?" I said. "After all, servants do as they're told, don't they?"

Tsukimura was at a loss for words.

"Good question," Tsukimura said. "Because I'm obligated to follow Himeno-sama's orders, she doesn't force the issue. She said that my free will is what separates a friend from a servant, and says she has no need for a 'friend' who obediently does whatever she's told."

So maybe the Himemiyas' belief in noblesse oblige wasn't just a way for them to feel good about their privileged position, but it actually had a positive impact on their youngest daughter.

"Well, what do _you_ think?" I said.

Tsukimura paused, surprised to be asked a question, then thought over her answer carefully.

"That Himeno-sama's a good person," Tsukimura said, "and not just because she treats me, her servant, well. She's honest with other people, and always thinks about others' interests. She can be blunt, but she often strives to help others improve themselves. There's no one I trust more, and she has told me things that she'd never tell anyone else. Spending time with her makes me happy, and I have many fond memories with her. She isn't just my mistress, but also my best friend, and I'd like to call her that."

"Well, there's no time like the present," I said, "and the only Himemiya around to judge you for treating her as a friend is the one who most wants you to do that."

"I understand," Tsukimura said. "I'll give it my best shot."

I wished Tsukimura luck, even if I had no reason to believe that Himemiya would rebuff Tsukimura's desire to see her as an equal. She had summoned her courage to take a significant first step, and I hoped it would lead her where she wanted it to.

* * *

**EVENT 5: Tsukimura is starting to see Himemiya as a friend, and feels the same way about me.**

Tsukimura invited me to her room. Her half was relatively spartan, a bit like a servant's quarters, but was remarkably tidy.

"I have some good news, Azuki-san," Tsukimura said. "I was able to talk things over with Himeno recently."

"Just Himeno?" I said.

"That's right," Tsukimura said. "I actually managed to have an entire conversation with her without adding the '-sama' to her name."

"Good for you," I said, "but I'm guessing that isn't the only step towards equalizing your relationship?"

Tsukimura nodded.

"Unfortunately, yes," Tsukimura said, "but I feel that it's important that I managed to summon the courage to take this first step. If I can manage to do that, I'll be able to wholeheartedly call Himeno my friend one day."

"Keep at it," I said. "Whatever you might call Himeno, it's clear that you care about and are grateful to her, so in some ways, you already are friends."

I knew that it wouldn't be easy to overcome a lifetime's worth of being conditioned to think of herself as inferior, but I believed Tsukimura could do it. She'd taken the first step on a long journey, and had a friend who was willing to help her walk that path- well, _two_ friends.

"One more thing," Tsukimura said, "Can I call you 'Akira-chan'?"

"Sure thing, Kanae," I said. "You can _also_ call me your friend."

"I'd certainly be happy to do that, Akira-chan," Kanae said.

Kanae and I shook hands. While I still didn't really like how Tsukimura had been coerced into working as a servant to fulfill a dead guy's promise, I could respect her sense of loyalty and duty. One thing was clear- Himeno and I were lucky to have a friend like Kanae.

* * *

 **Skill:** Cleaning Lady. Helps clear obstacles more quickly in Train of Thoguht

 **Kanae's Undergarments** : A traditional pair of women's undergarments worn under her kimono.

Tsukimura was a relatively late addition to the cast, around the time Himemiya's personality and backstory were significantly overhauled. Despite that, I actually became somewhat fond of how she turned out, particularly how their differing social status complicates her friendship with Himemiya, but how they care for each other deeply in spite of that. Himemiya's Free Time Events will also include her perspective on Tsukimura.

Regarding Tsukimura's skill, Train of Thought is a minigame I made up myself, an equivalent to Logic Dive or Psyche Taxi. In it, you'd have to clear obstacles from a train track, then correctly direct the train in the path with the right answer to each question.

The omake references the quiz questions that pop up in some Free Time Events and what would happen if Azuki tried to troll Himemiya by deliberately choosing the wrong answers.

**Kanae Tsukimura**

**Title:** Ultimate Handmaiden

 **Birthday** : January 27 (Aquarius)

 **Height:** 163 cm (5'4")

 **Likes:** Watching archery competitions (especially Himeno-sama)

 **Dislikes:** Hard-to-remove stains.

 **Hobbies:** Karaoke

* * *

**Omake**

I listened to Tsukimura talk about her being a servant for her adoptive family in order to repay them for taking her in.

"There's a name for the principle I'm talking about," Tsukimura said, "in which children respect and care for their parents. Do you know what it is?"

Four choices were available to me- patriarchy, filial piety, communism and feudalism. I knew the answer but decided to have a little fun with Tsukimura.

"Patriarchy," I said.

"That's not it," Tsukimura said. "While the master is the head of the family, and headship is passed down to the eldest male child who is eligible, so the males are in charge, that's not what I'm talking about."

"All right, then, feudalism," I said, making it sound as though I was hastily guessing.

"Not exactly," Tsukimura said. "The family has servants and the company has employees, but none of us are the Himemiya family's vassals. One more try, please."

"Ok, I think I've got it now- _communism_ ," I said, affecting a shit-eating grin.

Tsukimura laughed out loud.

"The Himemiya family is one of the wealthiest in all of Japan," Tsukimura said. "They wouldn't last five minutes if the country fell to a communist revolution."

"All right, fun's over," I said. "Filial piety is my final answer."

"Good," Tsukimura said. "It looks like you finally got it, if only through process of elimination."

Tsukimura's smile didn't reach her eyes. I'd gotten a kick out of that, but I realized that it wouldn't be a good idea to piss Tsukimura off.


	5. Free Time Events: Kotaro Kumakura

**Free Time Events: Kotaro Kumakura**

**EVENT 1: Kumakura isn't really interested in acting, but he is interested in how people master their Ultimate talents.**

I decided to spend some time with Kumakura, who asked me some questions about how I learned acting. I shared some of my tricks, which weren't exactly trade secrets; as competitive as acting was, there wasn't any harm in giving some help to someone who needed it.

"I didn't know you were interested in acting, Kumakura," I said.

"Technically speaking, Azuki-san, I'm not," Kumakura said, "What I _am_ interested in is how you became so good at it."

I paused to think for a moment. Over the years, my mom, my bosses and my costars only cared about whether I could do the job I was given, not how I'd learned how to do so, so I had to admit that I'd never thought about this question before.

"It's hard to say," I said. "You've got to work really hard at becoming a better actor and outdoing everyone else, since only a small portion of people actually make it. Because of that, it takes hard work, talent and a desire to beat out the competitions. Does this sound reasonable?"

"It does," Kumakura said. "A lot of highly desirable careers, like actors, musicians and pro athletes, are also highly exclusive, and a lot of people are dismissed as having no chance to succeed before they even get started."

"Well, not everyone can succeed in their endeavors, and some people will never succeed in certain pursuits," I said, "so if you discourage them from trying something they can't succeed at, you prevent them from wasting time. Or am I wrong about that?"

Kumakura shook his head.

"Not necessarily," Kumakura said "but it does seem a bit premature to tell someone 'You can't possibly succeed' before that person even tries. If nothing else, I think children should try out a variety of interests when they're young, before choosing which one they want to seriously pursue."

"I agree," I said, "but I doubt anyone who takes that path would necessarily become the best in their given field."

"Hardly anyone ever does," Kumakura said, "but if you find something you love and are good at, the experimentation process is worthwhile."

When Kumakura put it that way, my success in acting could be thought of as a matter of luck, in that the first thing I'd seriously tried happened to be the thing I was best at. I had to admit that I was lucky in many regards, but I'd never thought that intuitively finding something I was good at was one of those regards.

"What about you, Kumakura?" I said. "Did you happen to experiment a lot when you were young, or did you stick with weightlifting from the very beginning?"

"A little bit of both," Kumakura said. "I'd spent most of my childhood trying to become more physically fit, and eventually ended up going into weightlifting. It started out as a side pursuit, and eventually became my Ultimate talent. It isn't something I would have discovered if I hadn't gone out of my way, but I'm glad I did."

Since Talent High School and Hope's Peak Academy set out to study talent, maybe Kumakura could work for them. He probably had the skillset to be a good coach, and the interest in talent to become a good researcher of talent, so there would probably be a lot of doors open to someone like him.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Kumakura wasn't always as strong as he is now. (Unavailable if Azuki cannot access the Ursa Major)**

Kumakura told me about how to safely lift weights. Not only did he seem like a pretty serious guy already, he was _dead_ serious when he stressed how important safety was in weightlifting.

"Thanks for telling me all all that," I said, "but I don't think I'm cut out for lifting weights. It's not just that I don't have the muscles- I'm not sure I can get the hang of everything I'd need to know."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Azuki-san," Kumakura said. "A lot of people would've told me that I wasn't cut out for it either if I'd said I wanted to become a weightlifter five to ten years ago."

I had to admit that I never would have imagined him being told something like that. Then again since I'd only met Kumakura less than a month ago, I had to admit that I couldn't say that it couldn't possibly have happened..

"You might be surprised to hear this," Kumakura said, "but I was what some people called a nerd. I wasn't very good in gym class, but I was near the top of my other classes. That doesn't strike you as bodybuilder material, does it?"

"Not really," I said. "Still, you do seem pretty smart, so I'm not surprised about your grades."

"I'm not so sure I'm 'smart' per se," Kumakura said. "It's more that I"m good at learning things. Whenever I had a test, I came up with mnemonic devices to help learn the material, since tests are all about being able to demonstrate that you know what you've been taught on the day of the test."

Maybe Kumakura was right- school wasn't necessarily as much about how smart you were or how hard you studied as it was about how well you could memorize and learn stuff. Then again, if he was able to think of a way to actually get good grades, he was probably smarter than most people, at least those who didn't slack off.

"As for gym class," Kumakura said, "I studied how to get stronger, and worked out on my own. It took a while, but I became physically fit, and eventually, the Ultimate Weightlifter."

"I think I get what you're saying," I said. "Work smarter, not harder, right?"

"That isn't exactly it," Kumakura said. "You do need to 'work smarter,' as you said, but you _also_ need to work hard. Someone who applies their effort correctly gets more out of it than someone who doesn't, but they still need to put in a lot of effort."

I paused, and thought about what we'd discussed last time. I had to admit that I hadn't thought much about how easy it was for me to master acting, but maybe I could discover something, with Kumakura's help.

"You know, Kumakura, I've got a favor to ask of you," I said. "I'd like to run an experiment of sorts, so would you mind memorizing a few lines of a play, then reciting them from memory?"

"I'm up for it," Kumakura said. "Is this about what we were discussing before?"

"Yeah," I said. "I wanted to see how good you are at learning a part."

"I understand," Kumakura said. "I'm willing to give it a try, although I'll probably need at least a day to prepare."

"Deal," I said. "Just let me get it. Meet me outside your cabin"

I went to the lounge and, looking through the bookshelf, found a play script. I picked it up and returned to Cabin M1.

"Here you go," I said. "We'll be doing the start of Act I, so memorize these lines."

As I spoke, I pointed out the lines in the text. Kumakura nodded confidently, apparently not at all intimidated by the prospect.

"Deal," Kumakura said. "I suppose you'll be the main character, then?"

"I am," I said. "I still remember the lines, so I won't need to go over them. Just let me know when you're ready."

"I will," Kumakura said, "although it'll probably take me at least a day. I'll let you know the next time you're available."

"Thanks for your time, Kumakura," I said.

Kumakura smiled and shook his head.

"Not a problem, Azuki-san," Kumakura said. "I just hope you learn whatever it is you hope to."

I nodded. While I wasn't on Talent High School's board and wasn't responsible for admissions, I had to admit that I was interested in learning more about his talent, which was likely more than just being strong enough to lift weights.

* * *

**EVENT 3: Kumakura's hard-working and a quick learner(Unavailable until the day after the previous event)**

When we met up, Kumakura recited the lines I'd given him from memory. His delivery of the lines was so-so at best, as if he was reading the script aloud, but he recited them verbatim, _also_ like if he was reading from the script.

"So how was I?" Kumakura said.

"You did pretty well," I said. "You might not have captured the character all that well, but you recited the lines word for word."

"Thank you, Azuki-san," Kumakura said. "Of course, I realize this is probably nothing to the Ultimate Actress."

I shrugged. A lot of Ultimates made their work look easy, but while talent did make a lot of things go more easily, outside observers tended to underestimate how much effort we put in. Moviegoers only saw the one _perfect_ take of the scene, not all the others in which we flubbed our lines or didn't get it down perfectly.

"It's true that my roles require me to memorize a lot more lines," I said, "but we have a lot longer to learn our parts. You had what, a day?"

Kumakura nodded.

"That's right," Kumakura said. "I only started working on it last night."

"You did pretty well, then," I said, "so it seems I was right- you do have a knack for memorizing things, or at least are better at learning material than some people I know. Back in elementary school, some of the people who were in plays with me still had trouble with their lines near the start of the play."

"They're just kids, Azuki-san," Kumakura said. "I hope you acknowledged that they were amateurs and gave them some leeway."

"I was a kid, too, Kumakura," I said, "but yeah, I did. In fact, I actually kind of enjoyed doing it with them. Most of them knew they never had a shot at becoming professional actors, but they did it because it was fun."

Kumakura nodded in comprehension, but he seemed a bit sad.

"I see," Kumakura said. "It's a bit of a shame that the children who enjoy starring in plays won't be able to continue when they're older. I know that a day will come when I will no longer be able to lift weights competitively, but at the very least, I can take pleasure in knowing that for a while, I was a champion."

"Yeah," I said. "Then again, the kids who acted in the plays with me should be able to find things that they _are_ good at, and can do for a living, even if that isn't acting."

Kumakura nodded, but I could tell he was still thinking about the kids who didn't quite make the cut. Perhaps he realized that, in another time and another place, he might have been one of them.

* * *

**EVENT 4: Kumakura realizes that things aren't always easy for people.**

I had Kumakura recite the lines that he'd learned again, but this time, he had to actually try to portray the character. He ended up making a little progress when it came to emoting, but it was clear that he didn't have much of a future as an actor.

After Kumakura ended up hamming up his latest attempt, we decided to take a break, during which he asked me a question.

"I have a question, Azuki-san," Kumakura said. "Surely you've met people who struggle with things that you find easy?"

I paused to think for a moment. Obviously, for most Ultimates, the answer would be yes, since they succeeded where most people failed, often while making it look easy. Of course, since I met Kumakura, I understood that a lot of Ultimates earned their titles through hard work.

"I do," I said, "Like I told you last time, some of my fellow cast members in the plays had trouble with their lines. There weren't as many people like that in my more professional projects, since while we have outtakes for a reason, you actually need to do well enough not to waste the filming crew's time."

"So I suppose that unlike you, those children never had any hope of going pro," Kumakura said.

"That's just the way the cookie crumbles," I said. "What about it?"

"I see a little of myself in them," Kumakura said, "and a path I might have chosen to take. Perhaps I, faced with something that was difficult for me, might have given up and never become the Ultimate Weightlifter, never knowing what I might have become had I simply tried harder and persisted longer."

I sighed. It was easy enough to imagine succeeding if you tried, but that didn't necessarily mean that you would. For all the people who succeeded in achieving their dreams, like myself and Kumakura had, there were probably many others who would only be left with regrets and thoughts of what might have been.

"Well, there are times when giving up is the wisest course of action," I said, "since there's no point wasting your time and effort on pursuits that you have no talent for. Maybe it's arrogant for me to say this, but I can't in good conscience recommend that every girl out there who dreams of being an actress should follow in my footsteps."

"Fair enough, Azuki-san," Kumakura said. "I know that not many people can succeed in your line of work."

As glad as I was that Kumakura understood this, I thought my statement came off as a bit harsh, so I decided to soften the blow a little.

"Then again," I said, "if I happened to meet a girl with a lot of talent and potential who was struggling with some aspect of the job, I'd probably encourage her not to give up, since there's a chance she could succeed, and it'd be a shame to waste it."

"That's true," Kumakura said. "Not everyone can get what they want, and some undertakings are doomed to failure, but I don't want to see anyone give up when they still have a chance."

Kumakura left me with a lot to think about. While becoming an actress had been hard work, achieving that goal had never seemed impossible, which was more than I could say for many kids with dreams.

* * *

**EVENT 5: Kumakura hopes to pass on his skills to others. Maybe I can do the same.**

Kumakura invited me to his cabin, and I saw some dumbbells laying around. I wondered how Yamazaki slept at night with all those blunt weapons around, but I knew that if Kumakura bludgeoned Yamazaki to death with one, he'd be instantly found out.

"I'm curious, Azuki-san," Kumakura said. "Have you ever considered becoming an acting teacher?"

"Maybe I will if my career goes belly-up," I said, "but I'm pretty sure my forte is acting, not teaching."

"I guess you'd know your own skills better than I do," Kumakura said, "but at the same time, I think you could potentially share what you've learned with others."

"If you say so," I said. "There's a certain mindset that's required for teaching, as opposed to 'doing.' For example, Kirishima seems much more likely to become a researcher than he is to be a science teacher."

"That's a shame," Kumakura said, "since he could be good at it. Maybe one of his pupils could become the next Ultimate Geneticist."

I shrugged. Maybe Kirishima considered that possible, but he didn't seem like the type to derive joy from others' successes, to say nothing of whether he was any good at teaching.

"As for me," Kumakura said, "I hope to someday pass what I've learned on to young aspiring weightlifters."

"What if one of them ends up surpassing you?" I said.

"That wouldn't be such a bad thing," Kumakura said. "In fact, I'm hoping for that. I'm not the sort who'd cling to his own glory and jealously look down on anyone who'd try to upstage me. What matters isn't that I'm the best, but that someone like me made it this far."

While a lot of people wanted to be the best at what they did, in practice, that goal ended up being a carrot for them to chase after while bettering themselves. Even the Ultimates were no exception, since they just chased after the carrot more quickly than anyone else did, and didn't stop once they got invited. Out of everyone I'd met in my class, Kumakura probably was the one who most exemplified this principle.

"I agree," I said. "I don't know if Talent High School was ever able to gain any insights from studying talented people like us, but we can pass what we've learned on to others. I'm not sure I'd ever teach for a living, but I could give people advice."

"Good plan," Kumakura said. "If I ever find someone who's looking for guidance in acting, I might refer them to you."

"And I'll tell any prospective bodybuilders that they might learn a thing or two from a certain friend of mine," I said. "Do we have a deal?"

"We certainly do, Azuki-san," Kumakura said, extending his large and muscular hand.

Kumakura and I shook hands firmly, and I was impressed by his strong grip. I still didn't know how things would turn out, but hoped the two of us could escape so that we could fulfill our promises to each other.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Skill:** Dead Lift: Makes it easier to push the mood to your favor in Rebuttal Showdown

 **Kotaro's Undergarments** \- A tough, flexible pair of briefs that fits a big guy like its wearer well.

Kumakura's Free Time Events not only reveal that he's more intelligent than some people might expect, but also look at how people master their talents. While Danganronpa often discusses the nature of talent, the characters in this fic and Where Talent Goes To Die often have to develop their talents through hard work. Kumakura's probably the member of Class 32 who worked hardest at developing his own talent.

**Kotaro Kumakura**

**Talent:** Ultimate Weightlifter

 **Height:** 192 cm (6'3")

 **Birthday:** May 5 (Taurus)

 **Likes** : Protein.

 **Dislikes:** Spicy foods

 **Hobby:** Reading health books.


	6. Free Time Events: Himeno Himemiya

**Free Time Events: Himeno Himemiya**

**EVENT 1: Himemiya comes from a strict and traditional family, but is grateful for what she does have.**

I asked Himemiya about her archery, since she didn't seem all that interested in my acting. She gave me a few pointers on how to wield a bow.

"I'm curious, Himemiya," I said. "What's it like to grow up in a rich family?"

"A bit like being a princess," Himemiya said. "I heard that you played one on Summer's End."

Summer's End didn't hesitate to kill off major characters, and my character, Princess Ophelia, was no exception. She was married off to the prince to produce an heir, but when she couldn't do that, she was put on trial for trumped-up charges and sentenced to be beheaded, not unlike what Henry VIII did to Anne Boleyn. Ophelia, despite being scared to death, faced the headsman's sword bravely, so she could do "a noble's final duty," even though it took multiple strokes to sever her head. That scene was one of the most powerful in the series, and I sought to do it justice- most would say I succeeded.

"I did," I said. "I'm guessing that it's a life of relative comfort but not much freedom, even if you don't end up being married off to crank out babies for some wealthy guy."

"Exactly," Himemiya said. "My family expects its children to find respectable spouses, even though it hasn't practiced arranged marriages in a long time. That said, my family is strict about raising children, knowing that it has only survived this long because its heads and all those who bear the family name are respectable and successful individuals."

"Wow," I said. "How long does your family go back?"

"A few centuries," Himemiya said. "My family comes from old money, and is not only wealthy enough that we have close ties to the Imperial household, but our lives have a lot in common with theirs. I actually ended up befriending Princess Ryouko, not just because we were both high-class enough that it was socially acceptable for us to be around each other, but because we had enough common ground. The fact that Ryouko-sama was fairly nice and modest probably helped."

Even I was a bit impressed. I'd rubbed shoulders with some rich and powerful people, but never actual royalty.

"Of course, one thing we bonded over was how strict our families could be," Himemiya said, "particularly the pressure to keep up good grades and extracurriculars, as well as cultivate a good reputation. That said, we were both thankful for the fact that we didn't want for anything"

"Me too," I said. "My family was struggling to get by before I made it big, but I didn't end up homeless, so I don't know what it's like to go hungry or sleep on the streets, either."

"Neither do most of our classmates," Himemiya said, "at least not any more than they know what it's like to grow up in a family like mine. That said, it is possible to have empathy for others, even if you haven't experienced what they're going through yourself."

Himemiya changed the subject for now, and I briefly wondered whether I'd ever have gotten to know someone like her, who'd come from a wealthy and privileged background. But while our lives until now were very different, our personalities were compatible, since she struck me as an honest individual. Even in situations like these, us becoming friends was a very real possibility.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Himemiya practiced many traditional arts as a child, including archery. She's glad to have a talent that she can call her own.**

Himemiya and I talked about our extracurriculars- for her, it was the archery team, while for me, it was the drama club.

"I'm curious, Azuki-san," Himemiya said. "Would you have continued to act in school plays if you didn't have what it took to do it professionally?"

"Probably," I said, "assuming I enjoyed it as much as I do now. I'd probably have to give it up eventually, but maybe I could do theater in my free time."

I had to admit that I wasn't sure of my answer. While doing what you love for a living isn't always what it's cracked up to be, I was glad that I could do acting for a living.

"What about you, Himemiya?" I said. "Would you have chosen to do archery if you weren't that good at it?"

"That depends on what you mean by 'not that good'," Himemiya said. "I was expected to take on various extracurriculars, and had to be at least competent in them, so that I would not embarrass myself or my family."

"You probably wouldn't have to worry about that if it came to acting," I said. "If you're totally incompetent, you'll never it past the auditions, and no one besides the person in charge of the casting will ever know how badly you suck at it. I don't know whether your family would be 'embarrassed' to have you as a stagehand or a non-speaking role, like the dragon in my first school play."

"Neither do I," Himemiya said. "My school did not have a drama club, so I never had the chance to try it out. Instead, I tried out archery, and found that it was a good fit for me. Not only did I take to it well, but I also enjoyed it, particularly combining good coordination with mental focus and proper technique. Before long, I chose to specialize in archery, and did well enough that my father had no complaints."

"I guess that's good," I said, "but you didn't do it just to please him, did you?"

Himemiya firmly shook her head.

"Not at all," Himemiya said. "In fact, I'm glad I became the Ultimate Archer because it's a path I chose for myself, as well as an honor I earned on my own, not a duty that was forced on me by my family, or something that I inherited from my parents. Maybe that's an arrogant attitude for a wealthy girl to have, but that's how I feel."

"No, I understand," I said. "I also think of my success as an actor as something I achieved myself, and I think the rest of our class can say the same, too. I don't think any of the Ultimates got this far just because of inherent talent or who their families are... and neither did you, Himemiya."

Himemiya chuckled.

"How ironic that you'd say my family name in the same breath that you express those sentiments," Himemiya said. "But thank you, Azuki-san."

Now that I thought about it, our families probably played at least _some_ role in our success. My mom's work as my manager helped me get the publicity, contacts and roles that I needed, even if my skill as an actress helped me succeed, while Himemiya's family paid her tuition to the school where she did archery. Still, our families didn't completely determine our identities, and just like I was more than the daughter of a showbiz professional, Himemiya was more than just a rich girl.

* * *

**EVENT 3: Himemiya resents having her nobility determine her identity.**

As a bit of roleplaying, Himemiya decided to start calling me "Azuki-sama" instead, and continued doing so until I asked her to stop- in other words, twice. She complied and called me "Azuki-san" once more, a seemingly vindicated smile on her lips.

"I have a question, Azuki-san," Himemiya said. "Do you believe that a person's worth is determined by the circumstances into which they're born?"

I almost laughed out loud.

"Not at all," I said. "Why do you ask?'

"I don't think so, either," Himemiya said. "I'm only wealthy because my parents are, and my parents are only wealthy because their parents were- my father was heir to the Himemiya zaibatsu, while my mother came from a respectable enough family that she could marry into the Himemiya family. While I will take on my husband's name when I marry, said husband must come from a well-off family."

Himemiya's nose turned up in disgust as she talked about her prospects for marriage. I didn't blame her, since while families like that would want a stable marriage, they didn't especially care whether it was loving or happy so long as the groom was wealthy or respectable.

"I get what you're saying," I said. "Social status isn't everything, right?"

"I would agree," Himemiya said, "but even if this sort of distinction is arbitrary, it does end up dictating how we interact with each other."

"I think I have some idea of what you're talking about," I said. "You don't like it when she calls you '-sama', do you?"

Himemiya shrugged, giving me the feeling that Tsukimura being forced to show her respect was only a symptom of a larger problem.

"I'm not so sure," Himemiya said. "I'd prefer that she just call me 'Himeno,' but I've gotten used to hearing the '-sama' after my name, as well as using it on others, such as Ryouko-sama. When I was little, I once asked if I should call Kanae 'Kanae-sama' so we'd be equal, but I was told it didn't work that way. Kanae couldn't help but smile upon hearing that, though, and told me she appreciated the thought."

I let off a soft chuckle.

"The problem is that Kanae doesn't get much choice in the matter," Himemiya said. "The terms of her relationship with me- which, I might add, designate her as the lesser individual- are dictated to her, and either she takes them as-is or stops working for us."

"That sucks," I said. "So why doesn't she tell your family to stuff those terms where the sun doesn't shine?"

"She doesn't want to," Himemiya said. "Kanae is very loyal to our family, so much that she wouldn't dream of abandoning them for a reason like that- not to mention that her prospects would be very bleak if she ran away from home. What's more, she's also come to think of herself as inferior to me, and as such, does not think she deserves to be treated like an equal."

"I guess that makes sense," I said. "Your family doesn't think much of the little people, do they?"

"You're not entirely wrong," Himemiya said, "but while my family does not think of its servants or other employees as _equals,_ they do strive to treat them well, as a sort of noblesse oblige. That means we always are polite to our servants and don't abuse them, even if we don't end up becoming friends, either."

Himemiya's disgust was almost palpable. There probably wasn't any explicit rule forbidding servants from befriending their masters, but the wide difference in social status meant they didn't need a rule like that.

"You don't like that, do you?" I said.

"Not entirely," Himemiya said, "at least the notion that treating your lesser well is some sort of noble principle, rather than a way to justify our privileged status. I treat Kanae well because she's my friend, and try to do right by all the other servants because it's the right thing to do, not to feel better about myself."

"I guess you've got the right of it," I said. "There's no good reason to treat people like shit just because they're 'beneath' you."

Himemiya shook her head.

"Not at all," Himemiya said. "Your family might not be as nearly as wealthy or high-status as mine, Azuki-san, but I like and trust you, so I don't see any reason to treat you as anything less than an equal."

I nodded in agreement. Himemiya had never given off the "stuck-up" image that rich people often do, even if she seemed like she'd struggled against her identity for much of her life. Out of all the Ultimate talents in our class, I least wanted to become a maid, but if I somehow ended up as one, I'd probably give the Himemiyas a call.

* * *

**EVENT 4: While there's no doubt that Himemiya cares for Tsukimura, she sometimes wonders if Tsukimura only is close to her out of a sense of obligation.**

This time, Himemiya had me roleplay as her maid, wanting to see how well I'd do in the job. Apparently, I did a lot better than she thought.

"You play the role quite well, Akira," Himemiya said. "May I ask that you play it a little while longer?"

"Certainly, Himeno-sama," I said, "but is something on your mind?"

Himemiya nodded.

"I've been thinking about Kanae," Himemiya said. "To be honest, there were times when I wondered if she was only nice to me because she was my servant."

"But Tsukimura-san is a kind person by nature," I said. "I see little reason to believe that she would treat you differently."

"Fair point," Himemiya said, "Of course, as my servant, she's also duty-bound to follow my commands, within reason. For that reason, I never give her any explicit orders, and she appreciates that, but I do sometimes wonder if she's accommodating to my requests because she feels compelled to obey me. Just because I'm not giving her any orders doesn't mean it isn't difficult for her to say no to me."

"I understand, Himeno-sama," I said, "but I do not think you're asking too much of her. If Tsukimura-san sees you as a friend, it is because she chooses to."

Himemiya noded, somewhat convinced

"Of course," Himemiya said, "while I know Kanae isn't that kind of person, I know some people who wouldn't be as nice to me if I weren't rich. One time, one of the older maids, who shall remain anonymous, mistook me for Tsukimura and acted rather rudely to me, thinking I was slacking off. When I told her my name, she got down on her knees, begging me not to report her, afraid she'd get fired if people found out about it."

I almost laughed at the mental image of the bitch pissing herself in terror over getting on the bad side of her employer's youngest daughter, but thought better of it. Sure, that maid wasn't exactly a good person if she was only nice to those more powerful than her, but she must have been truly scared of being canned back then, so she sounded pretty pitiful.

"Did you end up reporting her?" I said.

Himemiya shook her head.

"No," Himemiya said. "I told her that I'd keep what happened secret on one condition- that she be nicer to her coworkers. She got her act together, if only so that she wouldn't make the same mistake again. Then again, Kanae said that she'd never gotten along with the person in question... which, if you know Kanae, is saying a lot about how unpleasant that person is."

I definitely saw where Himemiya was coming from. The only person Tsukimura had ever gotten cross with had directly insulted Himemiya, so it would obviously take a lot of effort to get her to dislike you.

"In any event, the experience was a bit of a sobering wake-up-call," Himemiya said. "There were times when I wanted to be free of my family name and the expectations associated with it, but I had to wonder- how many people would stay with me if I wasn't a Himemiya?"

"I can think of at least two," I said, "namely, Tsukimura-san and I. I'd rather not see you be disowned from your family, or your family lose its wealth or status, but if either happens, you can commiserate with me, or with Tsukimura-san."

"Thank you, Akira," Himemiya said. "I do appreciate hearing that from you."

"You're welcome, Himemiya" I said. "Is it all right if I drop the 'maid' act?"

"Please do, Azuki-san," Himemiya said. "I'm sorry for putting you through the trouble, but I wanted to see how things would change if you treated me the same way Kanae did. The answer? Not much."

I let out a sigh of relief and relaxed my posture.

"That's good," I said, "but what do you think would happen if Kanae was no longer your servant?"

"I honestly haven't been able to put that to the test," Himemiya said, "but Kanae's patience isn't infinite, and certain people have pushed their luck too far with her- Asakura-san managed that within a day."

"Yeesh," I said.

"I actually find it reassuring," Himemiya said, "since not only does it serve as a deterrent to those who might take advantage of Kanae's kindness, it also shows that I haven't gotten on her bad side yet."

"And I don't think you ever will," I said. "I get that things can be... complicated between you two, but just do right by her, and she'll always be your friend."

Himemiya smiled pleasantly and thanked me for listening. Good intentions could often lead to bad outcomes, but the truth was that Himemiya and Tsukimura cared each other, so I was sure that they'd be just fine.

* * *

**EVENT 5: Himeno has come to an understanding about her friendship with Tsukimura, and has also accepted me as a friend.**

Himeno invited me over to her room. Her half of the room had some archery awards and a small archery target.

"Well, make yourself at home," Himeno said. "It's not as ostentatious as my room back home, but it'll have to do."

"Fine by me," I said.

As Himeno and I sat on her bed together, I remembered the various studio executives' offices that I'd been in. Some of them were pretty rich, but they weren't too excessive, apart from having a name-brand chair or a fancy desk.

"I've been thinking about Kanae," Himemiya said. "While the divide between mistress and servant made things complicated, I know that she always strived to treat me as a friend. She's made a lot of friends at school, so I probably would have been one of them if we'd met in high school."

"I think so, too," I said. "I mean, I like her well enough, too, and we don't have all that much in common."

Himeno nodded.

"That's true, Akira," Himeno said, "and the same goes for us. I was never really all that interested in any of your movies or TV shows, so your title of Ultimate Actress didn't mean all that much to me."

"Fair enough, Himeno," I said. "I'm not into archery, either. I hope you don't mind."

"Not really," Himeno said. "In fact, while I wasn't sure how close we'd end up becoming, I was glad that you chose to spend time with me as a personl, rather than the Ultimate Archer or the daughter of the Himemiya family."

"I know the feeling," I said. "Of course, while I think you're more than your family or your talent, those things are part of what make you the person you are. I wouldn't change any of those, so I hope you don't want to, either."

"Never," Himeno said.

Himemiya and I shook hands. While I still had my doubts about Talent High School's mission, especially considering that we'd ended up in a killing game, I was grateful that it had helped me meet Himeno, a girl who, despite being very different from me, had ended up becoming a close friend.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Skill:** Unerring Aim: Steadies the crosshair.

 **Himeno's Undergarments:** A relatively expensive pair of panties.

Himeno's given name comes from Himeno Kimigara, a talented archer in A Centaur's Daily Life (as well as the eponymous centaur), and her family name comes from Chikane Himemiya in Kannazuki no Miko, who's an archer. Like Chikane, Himeno is a lesbian, but she isn't in love with Tsukimura for a few reasons- mainly because Tsukimura is heterosexual and the nature of their relationship means Tsukimura has trouble saying no to her.

Regarding the zodiac signs, I'm going by an older guide that doesn't include Ophiucus. Let me know if there are any issues.

**Himeno Himemiya**

**Talent:** Ultimate Archer

 **Birthday:** December 14 (Sagittarius)

 **Height:** 170 cm (5'7")

 **Likes:** Archery practice

 **Dislikes:** Insincere politeness

 **Hobby:** Trying various things her family wouldn't approve of. (e.g. fast food, casual clothing)


	7. Free Time Events: Hide Yamazaki

**Free Time Events: Hide Yamazaki**

* * *

**EVENT 1: Yamazaki always had a knack for memorizing bits of trivia, even before he got on TV.**

Yamazaki asked me some questions about some of my work, such as the budget for each product or the names of some of the lower-ranking employees, and surprisingly enough, even I couldn't answer them all. I chalenged him on some of the questions I got wrong, but he defended his position with evidence. Since Eureka, the game show where Yamazaki had made his claim to fame, didn't require contestants to explain their answers, it was clear that Yamazaki was the real deal.

"So, Yamazaki," I said, "where does your interest in trivia come from?"

"Good question, Azuki," Yamazaki said. "The media didn't take notice of me until I started showing up on TV. Once they did, not many reporters asked about my life before I was a fixture on Eureka."

It was something of a harsh reminder that Ultimates not only needed to be good at what they did, but they also needed to be famous. The latter obviously required the former, but it also required a certain amount of mass appeal and the good fortune to be noticed, so it was possible that people who were a lot better than us languished in obscurity.

"I thought so," I said, "which is why I'm asking you. The whole point of talking to people's to find out stuff that you can't learn about them just by surfing the internet."

"Well, I don't know if the articles about me mentioned this," Yamazaki said, "but I got started at a young age. In addition to watching a lot of TV and movies, I also watched some game shows, and tried to answer the questions before the audience members could. Eventually, I got to the point at which I got some questions right that the contestants ended up missing."

One thing the Ultimates had in common was that at a young age, they'd achieved things that many adults couldn't dream of... and a lot of those adults knew it. I was spared the worst of it, since there was demand for teenage actors and actresses (even if the recruitment pool was a hell of a lot bigger), but a lot of people didn't take kindly to being upstaged by a "kid."

"And you went from playing at being a contestant to actually becoming one, right?" I said.

"Eventually," Yamazaki said. "In the meantime, I participated in trivia contests and gradually worked my way up. One day, I got selected to appear on Eureka, and the rest is history."

While I had only seem a few of Yamazaki's appearances, I'd heard of his unprecedented winning streak, as well as how such a thing was almost impossible under the show's rules. Contestants had to buzz in and answer quickly, and if they got any questions wrong, they'd suffer steep penalties to their scores. Returning champions were given handicaps, which increased every time they came back to the show.

"It certainly is, Yamazaki," I said. "I don't say things like this lightly, but I'm impressed that you got this far."

"Thanks, Azuki," Yamazaki said. "I downplayed my accomplishments and acted humble when I was interviewed, but the truth was I was happy to finally be good at _something._ Not a lot of people would choose trivia, but I'm perfectly happy with it."

Yamazaki soon changed the subject, but his comment about how he'd taken his success was surprisingly blunt, in more ways than one. Even Ultimates like us had things they weren't good at, but I hadn't expected Yamazaki to admit that he wasn't good at anything else. Maybe he'd say a lot more things that'd surprise me if I got to know him better, or I'd come to understand him well enough that nothing I learn about him would seem out of place.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Yamazaki's extensive knowledge of trivia doesn't translate into success in school.**

I asked Yamazaki about some more trivia, and he shared some details about some of his favorite films. Not only did he have an encyclopedic knowledge of showbiz-related trivia, but he went the extra mile when it came to the movies and TV shows he was most passionate about.

"I'm curious about something, Yamazaki," I said. "If you're so good at memorizing facts, you must be a pretty good student, right?"

Yamazaki laughed out loud and shook his head.

"The opposite," Yamazaki said. "Most of the time, I'm lucky to pass. The rest of the time... I'm not so lucky."

"Huh, figures," I said. "If you can memorize all sorts of minor details, then it should be pretty easy to study for tests. If nothing else, you should have some idea what's on them, whereas with quiz shows, practically anything goes. Or is it that you don't study?"

There were rumors that Eureka was fixed, but while people would naturally be suspicious that a guy like Yamazaki won so often, behind-the-scenes looks at the show proved that there was no way for anyone on the floor to know the questions or their answers in advance. In fact, at a press conference, Yamazaki was able to answer a reporter's impromptu trivia pop quiz, and probably had to do something similar when he was interviewed.

"Oh I do study," Yamazaki said, "but it's just that the material doesn't really stick with me, a bit like if you pour water into a cup that has a crack near the bottom. I can remember a role an up-and-coming actor had in a movie that I saw _once_ when I was five, but I can pore over a certain fact in a textbook a couple dozen times and not recall it on the day of a test."

Now that I thought about it, there was a lot I didn't know about Yamazaki's study habits. Maybe the problem was with his technique, or he was making a habit of cramming. I probably wouldn't have any idea of the problem, much less the solution, unless I was his private tutor.

Yamazaki must have noticed that I wasn't quite getting it, since after pausing thoughtfully for a moment, he decided to ask me a question.

"Let me ask you this, Azuki," Yamazaki said. "What's your worst subject?"

"History," I said. "I have a hard time with all the dates and names."

What I didn't mention was that despite having trouble regurgitating details on command, I actually knew a fair amount about history. I was especially interested in the history of theater and cinema, particularly Shakespeare's day. While working on Summer's End, I did some reading in my spare time, and learned that the story was surprisingly accurate in its depiction of a medieval society.

"Oh, looks like we're the same," Yamazaki said. "I had a lot of trouble with that sort of thing when it came time for tests. All the little bits of information don't come to me half as easily as trivia."

I had to admit that was true. Of course, if I messed up a scene, I could do it all over again once everyone was ready, but retaking a test would only be possible if I totally bombed it.

"Now for my second question," Yamazaki said. "Have you ever had a part in which you were expected to know that history? As in, you'd have to demonstrate that you knew history, or else they'd pick someone else?"

"Not really," I said, "although I did have to keep my grades up to continue acting."

"That's exactly it," Yamazaki said. "Even though my teachers stress the importance of learning in school, when you get down to it, my knowledge of trivia is more useful than what I learn in school... at least right now."

"Fair enough," I said. "Just don't blame anyone else, least of all your teachers, if you end up coming to regret that attitude someday."

"I won't," Yamazaki said. "All I think is that we should play to our strengths. As far as I know, none of the Ultimates here ever got their titles for something that they were bad at, and/or didn't like... even though not everyone gets a title they _want."_

Yamazaki excused himself, making me wonder what he meant. The basic thrust of his message was obvious enough, but why did he feel so strongly about it? I'd only get the answer when and if he decided to give it to me.

* * *

**EVENT 3: Yamazaki once wanted to be an actor himself.**

Yamazaki shared some stories about certain actors' and actresses' lives before they made it big, as well as what some of them were up to after their careers petered out. The former was a fascinating look at the stars' humbler beginnings, and the latter was a sobering reminder that success didn't always last forever.

"So, Azuki," Yamazaki said, "you ever wonder why I know so much about showbiz trivia?"

I shrugged. It was clear that only he knew the right answer, but maybe he thought I could guess, so I gave his question my best shot.

"Maybe you're interested in that sort of thing?" I said. "I mean, millions of people eagerly follow celebrity news, whether they're fans of the people in the news or just like trashy gossip, so I guess you're no exception?"

"You could say that," Yamazaki said, "but personally, I wasn't content being a spectator."

"As opposed to what?" I said. "An actor?"

Yamazaki nodded. Even though I'd spoken from the cuff, it seemed as though my intuition was spot on.

"Bingo," Yamazaki said. "For as long as I could remember, I studied all the famous actors, hoping to learn from their life stories and find my own way to stardom. There was just one problem; can you guess what it was?"

"You didn't have any talent, did you?" I said.

Yamazaki chuckled bitterly.

"Nailed it," Yamazaki said. "I didn't realize that until middle school, when I tried out for a school play, and couldn't even get a part. I didn't just lose to the guys who'd been honing their craft since they could talk, but even a bunch of guys who weren't even interested in plays. It kind of sucks when you lose to someone who doesn't want the prize nearly half as much as you do, right?"

"You're right," I said, "but prizes aren't given out based on how much you _want_ them- they're given to whoever has done the most to _earn_ them. I'd thought you'd beaten enough contestants on Eureka to understand that."

Yamazaki nodded. Technically, the minimum number of contestants he'd have to beat was zero- any losing contestant wise enough to keep things in perspective would understand that there were a lot of people out there who were more dedicated and knowledgeable than they were, so it was only natural that they'd face someone like that on the show.

"Yeah, I understand," Yamazaki said. "In fact, it's a hell of an accomplishment to even _get on_ a game show like Eureka. Some of my friends were jealous when I actually got an acceptance letter, and this was _before_ I won the first time."

"Fair enough," I said. "Some of my schoolmates were jealous of me, too, even when they didn't think that my first professional role would be anything more than a one-time thing. Back then, I didn't know that I'd have a promising career, either, but I was grateful for the opportunity."

"Yeah," Yamazaki said. "I suppose that's all you can do- be grateful for the opportunities you're given and recognize that there are a lot of people out there who aren't nearly as lucky as you."

Yamazaki changed the subject once again, evidently not wanting to talk about it too much, but I'd gotten the message. I could tell that he didn't just sympathize with the latter group, but he also identified with them. I was only natural that we Ultimates had things we were bad at- namely, most things outside our talents, but Yamazaki clearly had a harder time with "most things" than the rest of us did.

* * *

**EVENT 4:Yamazaki realizes that life's about competition and he isn't always a winner.**

Yamazaki asked me a little about how I got the various parts, wanting to hear my thoughts on the process. After I told him about auditioning for all the roles I'd gotten, as well as some that I hadn't, he went silent for a moment.

"So let me see if I understand it correctly," Yamazaki said. "For every part you got, every other actress who tried out went home empty-handed, right?"

"Some of them tried out for and got other roles," I said, "but yeah, most of them were just shit out of luck. All they could do was try out for another role, and hope they could find some place that would take them."

Yamazaki nodded solemnly.

"Oh, I know all about that," Yamazaki said, "and not from memorizing various actors' experience with rejection and failure- but my own. After all, not only am I a bad student, but I couldn't keep up my Eureka winning streak forever."

Technically, Yamazaki's handicap was so high that victory became almost impossible in his final night on the show, and the contestant who beat him later went on to win three times in a row, but I didn't feel like bringing either part up. By now, I was too familiar with Yamazaki's own personal issues to quibble with him over technicalities.

"Life's all about competition," Yamazaki said. "At school, you're ranked in comparison to your peers. You have to take exams to get admission to high school and college, and only the best succeed. When you grow up, you'll need to apply for a job and outdo a bunch of people who are just as desperate as and probably more experienced than you. If you succeed, you get what a lot of other people like you couldn't get, but if you lose... well then you're in good company. I'm almost as bad with math as I am in history, but even I know that most of the time, you lose."

I couldn't argue with what he was saying, since numbers and statistics easily supported the point. But were they the only pieces of evidence that mattered?

"I'd like to say you're wrong about that," I said, "but you're right- in cases like those, only one person wins and everyone else loses. Despite that, you still fight the good fight, don't you?"

"I guess," Yamazaki said. "What are you trying to say?"

"That back when you were on Eureka, you didn't let the odds or the rapidly growing handicap deter you," I said. "You simply pressed on, believing that you could win, which, along with your knowledge and skill, played a big role in why you _did_ win. Or am I wrong?"

Yamazaki smiled and shook his head.

"Nope," Yamazaki said. "In Eureka, you have to hit the buzzer quickly if you want a chance to answer the question, and you actually have to know the answer. Back when I was on the show, I felt the pressure, but I also felt like I could do it. It's a good feeling, so maybe I should try thinking like that more often."

I nodded in agreement. In my auditions, just like Yamazaki's appearances on Eureka, we had to do two things- show that we knew our stuff and that we were confident that we deserved to be there. The same probably held true for most other people of our caliber, wherever their talents lay.

"You should," I said. "Wanting something isn't enough to actually get it, but you'll never get what you want unless you go out and claim it."

"Thanks, Azuki," Yamazaki said. "Like they say, you miss 100 percent of the shots you don't take, so I might as well pull the trigger, right?"

Yamazaki left, feeling a bit better. I wasn't one to promise success in any given endeavor, but I believed that if you had a chance, you should take that chance, so hopefully, something good would come of Yamazaki following that advice.

* * *

**EVENT 5: Perhaps someday Yamazaki will be forced to become something other than a trivia champion, but he can do so with confidence.**

I met up with Yamazaki in his cabin, which had various posters on the walls. I'd expected to see certificates or trophies of some kind, but if he'd earned any, he hadn't brought his with him.

"I've been thinking about what you said, Azuki," Yamazaki said. "Obviously, I can't keep up being a trivia champion forever, but maybe there's something else that I'll be good at. I don't know yet, but I'm sure that I'll find something someday, so I won't give up."

"I'm sure about that," I said, "because I've also considered the possibility that I'll have to retire from acting someday. Coming to Talent High School was my way of hedging my bets."

While we all knew how well that had turned out, my mom had told me that she believed that if I could become an actor at such a young age, I could do practically anything I put my mind to. Maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but I had plenty of skills I could use elsewhere.

"Good plan," Yamazaki said. "My folks made me save my winnings, although they did treat me to a dinner out each time I won. They knew my days as a champion couldn't go on forever, and so did I."

I nodded to concur. While actresses had somewhat better prospects of getting long-term employment than game show champions did, my mom made me do the same thing.

"Then again," Yamazaki said, "while I do know that I'll probably have to do something else, I'm still a bit fuzzy on what I can or want to do. But you know what? Once I do find that thing I can do, I'll give it everything I have, and not let the odds or my own doubts hold me back."

"Good for you," I said. "I can't promise you'll succeed, but I'm sure that if you do, you'll have earned your success."

"Thanks," Yamazaki said. "I'm looking forward to seeing what I- er, _we_ \- end up doing once we get out of here."

Yamazaki and I shook hands. His post-Ultimate Trivia Champion life would undoubtedly be hard, but there was something he could do with his life, possibly well enough to become equal to an Ultimate. Whatever path he chose, I looked forward to seeing what he could accomplish.

* * *

 **Skill:** Lifeline: Reduces the number of weak points to three or fewer.

 **Hide's Undergarments** : His pair of "lucky briefs." He can recite all the times he's worn them to competition, and wonders if they'll one day become a collector's item.

Yamazaki's personality was a bit difficult to flesh out, but I've found it works surprisingly well. He has one of the less useful talents (which isn't to say that he doesn't take pride in it), and so believes it doesn't give him any edge over the others, nor does it let him contribute much to any cooperative effort.

**Hide Yamazaki**

**Talent:** Ultimate Trivia Champion

 **Birthday:** August 19 (Leo)

 **Height** : 172 cm (5'8")

 **Likes:** News of the weird.

 **Dislikes:** Studying for tests.

 **Hobby:** Trivia games.


	8. Free Time Events: Sayuri Sasaki

**Free Time Events: Sayuri Sasaki**

**EVENT 1: Not many people become manga artists, so Sasaki considers herself lucky.**

I decided to hang out with Sasaki. She told me about her manga for a while, and while I wasn't particularly interested in the manga's content, I was fascinated by how she cranked it out week after week.

"So, Sasaki," I said, "how'd you get started in manga?"

Sasaki paused to think for a moment.

"The best answer I can think of is the same way most successful manga artists do," Sasaki said. "As someone who always liked to draw, I started reading manga when I was old enough to get my own spending money. Eventually, I picked up a pen and started drawing my own manga; I still look back on those fondly, even if they aren't nearly as good as what I make nowadays."

I cracked a grin as I imagined it. When I was little, I did imitations of what I saw on TV, but while I could get the general emotions of each line down, I couldn't pronounce all the words correctly. In Sasaki's case, I could probably forget about her knowing all the advanced shading and inking techniques, and I'd be lucky if her people actually looked sort of like people.

"That sounds about like what I expected," I said, "but it obviously took a lot of hard work to get published, didn't it?"

"It certainly did," Sasaki said. "I entered a few contests to make a name for myself, published a couple one-shots, then finally submitted Breakneck Canyon, which ended up getting serialized."

"I thought so," I said. "You make what you do sound easy- hell, all Ultimates do."

"Well, it isn't," Sasaki said. "Getting serialized is not only a slow process, but also that few artists make it through. Even those who succeed end up having several of their ideas rejected before they get a series. I suppose you have some idea what I'm talking about, since you're an actress?"

I nodded, wondering if Sasaki was thinking more about the number of retakes I had to do for each scene, or how many people auditioned for each part. Either one was a valid answer, but I suspected that she meant the latter.

"That's right," I said. "I'm guessing that there's two reasons why so few people make it- not only is there a hell of a lot of competition, but a lot of the people who try don't know what they're getting into. Am I right?"

Sasaki nodded.

"Those are good guesses," Sasaki said. "I assume you're speaking from experience."

"Well, yeah," I said. "A lot of young girls have dreamed of being an actress, but if I told them how hard the work was, I think at least half of them would give up on it right then and there. Personally, that'd be for the best."

"I... I see," Sasaki said.

A moment of awkward silence passed, and I could tell that Sasaki was lost in thought.

"Something wrong, Sasaki?" I said.

Sasaki looked startled for a moment, as if I'd woken her up from a nap.

"Not really, Akira-chan," Sasaki said. "I just think that while a lot of people would be better off finding some career path besides being a manga artist or an actress, some of them would have succeeded if they'd tried their hardest. After all, if you'd given up, you never would have realized your potential."

"I guess not," I said, "although I wouldn't necessarily have succeeded if I'd kept trying. In the end, it probably comes down to some combination of hard work, talent and luck."

"I agree," Sasaki said. "I'm glad we both achieved our dreams."

I nodded, even knowing that, as Winston Churchill once said, success was not final, and our careers might not be waiting for us if we managed to get out of here. Then again, he also said that failure wasn't fatal, so just as we'd established ourselves, we could rise from the ashes and do so again.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Sasaki's manga keeps her busy and forces her to give up many things. Despite that, she thinks it's worth the sacrifice.**

I decided to hang out with Sasaki for a little while, during which time we talked about nothing in particular. Surprisingly enough, she actually seemed to be enjoying herself.

"I'm curious, Akira-chan," Sasaki said. "Have you ever had this much free time before?"

"Yeah," I said. "I'm really busy when I'm filming a movie, but things get back to semi-normal once I'm between projects. As passionate as I am about acting, I've learned to appreciate having downtime to relax and catch up on schoolwork."

"I agree," Sasaki said. "Of course, we can't exactly relax or do homework while we're on this cruise, so all this seems like a waste of time, to put it mildly."

"I see what you mean," I said.

If we ever got out of here, I promised that I wouldn't take any of my time for granted, adding that to the list of a bunch of other desperate promises I could make in a futile attempt to bargain my way out of this mess. Then again, putting all that aside, who could say that the world outside was exactly the way we'd left it?

"Speaking of which," I said, "I don't suppose you have a lot of friends, do you?"

"I have some," Sasaki said. "Some of my old friends drifted apart from me ever since I became a manga artist, and didn't have as much time for socializing with them, but others remained my friends, even knowing we couldn't see each other as often anymore. I'm also on good terms with my assistants, who are, for the most part, somewhat older than I am, and working to get their start in the manga."

"I'm in the same boat as you," I said, "since I lost touch with some of my friends over the years, although I did befriend some of my fellow actors while doing various projects. Do you ever regret the sacrifices you've made?"

Sasaki shook her head.

"No," Sasaki said. "There are times when I feel a bit lonely, or miss my old friends, but I don't regret what I've given up for my dream."

"Neither do I," I said. "One time, I happened upon one of my old friends, whom I'd lost touch with since elementary school. She was glad to see me again, and that while she was sad that we didn't see each other much anymore, she 'wouldn't be much of a friend' if she expected me to give up my dream just to be with her. I'm sure your old friends feel the same way."

"I'm sure of that," Sasaki said. "In fact, one of my old friends, whom I hadn't heard from in years, sent me a fan letter. It was really quite nice to hear from her again."

A lot of people were jealous of talented individuals like us, but our friends- or at least the ones who were _real_ friends- were legitimately happy that we'd succeeded where so many had failed. Since they'd connected to us back when we were ordinary people, before we'd made it big, and didn't put us on a pedestal, their friendship and encouragement meant more than virtually anyone else's.

* * *

**EVENT 3: As difficult as becoming a manga artist has been for Sasaki, she knows that dreams won't come true unless you pursue them.**

Sasaki told me about a standard week in the life of a manga artist, while drawing up a pie chart for how she spent her time every day. With so little time to spare, it was a wonder that she was able to finish her manga while keeping up with school.

"This might seem like a personal question," I said, "but are you worried about getting back to drawing manga?"

"I am," Sasaki said. "I probably told my editor that I'd be on hiatus for the duration of the school trip. Then again, no one thought it would last this long... or be this dangerous."

I'd heard that manga artists went on hiatus for quite a few reasons. Sometimes they got sick, sometimes they needed a little time to get the next story arc prepared and sometimes there were personal reasons, but I'd never heard of any of them getting kidnapped and forced into a killing game.

"While we're on the subject," I said, "did anyone tell you that maybe you should wait until after you graduate high school to draw your manga?"

"More than a few people," Sasaki said. "There were a few editors who mentioned that apart from... the content of my work, it might not be a good idea to have a high schooler spend so much time drawing manga. I disagreed, but could see where they were coming from."

I nodded. Some of my teachers weren't thrilled about my taking time off of school to do acting, so I worked extra hard to show them that I was learning what I needed to.

"Yeah," I said. "School's a lot of work as it is, even when you don't have a side job on top of it."

"I know," Sasaki said. "I'm not trying to brag, but I was once just outside the top ten percent in my grade. Ever since I got serialized, my grades slipped, and I'm now only above average- any less and I wouldn't be able to continue."

"Then why go on?" I said.

"Apart from the fact that I really like drawing manga?" Sasaki said. "I guess it's because of my aunt, Sanae Sasaki."

"What's she like?" I said.

"Let's see," Sasaki said. "She's a really nice person, the kind you can talk to about almost anything. She reads my manga, and is a big fan of it. She's also kind of sensitive about her age, and doesn't like being called 'Auntie', even though she's my mom's age- that's why she has me call her 'Sanae-san' instead."

I nodded attentively. All this was somewhat interesting, but I was waiting for the point.

"Anyway, Sanae-san wanted to become an actress when she was younger," Sasaki said, "but had to keep putting off that goal for one reason or another, and by the time she got started, it was too late. She's not the kind to live vicariously through her niece, but she doesn't want me to make the same mistakes she did, by putting off my dream until it's too late to pursue it."

"I see," I said. "Just to play Devil's Advocate, what if you end up making _different_ mistakes?"

"Good question, Akira-chan," Sasaki said. "She's talked things out with my parents- my dad's her older brother and my mom's her best friend. Mom and Dad... don't always agree, but they're fine with my drawing manga. I'm grateful to all of them for this chance, and seek to repay them by making the most of it."

I could tell that there was something Sasaki didn't quite want to talk about, but I got the gist of what she was saying and agreed with it. Not only had I worked long and hard to become an actress, outdoing many rivals to reach stardom, but I'd also achieved this goal with the help of my mom, my acting coaches and various other colleagues and mentors. I didn't just owe it to myself to succeed, but I also owed it to everyone who'd invested so much in me, which was all the more reason to not screw up.

* * *

**EVENT 4: Sasaki won't be satisfied until she makes a perfect manga, or at least one better than a certain series with a disappointing ending.**

Sasaki asked me about the blooper reels of my movies. She was pleased that I had enough of a sense of humor to laugh at my own gaffes, and was humble enough to admit that I make mistakes.

"I have a question, Akira-chan," Sasaki said. "You go through a lot of retakes while filming, don't you?"

"I do," I said, "and not just the funny outtakes you find in blooper reels. We re-shoot scenes until we get them just right, although we have to actually take our jobs seriously and not waste the film crews' time. When we do theater, there are no second chances, which is why we spend so long rehearsing."

"I thought so," Sasaki said. "It's not always easy to see how much hard work goes into any creative endeavor."

I had to agree with that. Even without the insanely tight deadlines Sasaki had to deal with, manga took a lot of effort to draw and write well. One of my old classmates had gotten so caught up in making doujin manga that his grades ended up taking a nosedive. He was pretty good at it, if not nearly as good as an acquaintance of his from a convention he'd attended, but he insisted that it wasn't easy to keep on drawing what he did.

"Anyway, the reason why I'm curious is because I want to achieve perfection myself," Sasaki said. "I hope to create a masterpiece of a manga that features a compelling storyline and gorgeous artwork."

"That's a good goal, Sasaki," I said, "but there's two problems. First, I have to wonder if there's any sort of way to identify perfection in manga art, much less achieve it. It's different from other fields, such as archery, where you might be considered perfect if you hit the target every time."

Sasaki nodded.

"Good point," Sasaki said, "although I doubt even Himemiya-san can achieve 100 percent accuracy. What's your second point?"

"I'm getting to it," I said. "The second problem is that since you have to bust your butt to get something halfway decent out with the deadlines you have, you can forget about perfection."

"Quite true," Sasaki said. "There are times when I wish my deadlines weren't quite so strict, so I'd have more time to fine-tune the art and the story, but I recognize that if there's anything holding me back, it's my own abilities. I suppose that the only thing I can do is constantly improve my skills."

"Sounds like you've got it figured out," I said. "I suppose you wouldn't have gotten this far if you didn't set such high standards for yourself, right?"

"You could say that," Sasaki said, "but when you set out to do something that you're passionate about, it's only natural that you want to do it as well as possible. Did I ever mention why I'm drawing a manga about a gay couple in the first place?"

"Because you love manga?" I said. "Oh, wait, I guess that's not the only reason, is it?"

Sasaki shook her head. It was a hasty guess, but I had to admit that I couldn't think of a better answer for why Sasaki chose the subject she did than her being into that kind of thing.

"No, it's not the only reason," Sasaki said. "Have you ever heard of 'The Two Moons of Mars'?"

I paused to think. "Two Moons" had started the year before I was born and concluded its run when I was eight, so it was essentially before my time.

"A little," I said. "I recall that a lot of people didn't like the ending, but not much apart from that, so just pretend I don't know the first thing about it."

"All right," Sasaki said. "Two Moons was a popular romance manga, and one of the biggest draws was the apparent gay romance between the two male leads, Rei Tsukino and Mamoru Tsukiyama. You can imagine that a lot of people, myself included, weren't happy when the manga artist ended up not pairing them with each other, but with two women who had barely any panel time or characterization."

"Wow, and I thought Summer's End went to shit near the end of its run," I said. "I was glad my character got killed off when she did, and that my career started after the anime adaptation for that Two Moons travesty ended."

Sasaki giggled. Despite being somewhat informal when interacting with her peers, she was pretty polite, so she must have found my bluntness amusing.

"Some fans petitioned the author to change the ending," Sasaki said, "and in response, the author got annoyed and challenged them to write their own manga if they thought they could do better. I was still young, but I decided to take her up on her offer."

"Do you think you succeeded?" I said.

Sasaki shrugged, either too humble or too unsure of herself to say "yes" outright.

"I don't know," Sasaki said. "I don't intend to make the same mistakes she did, but I've also come to understand her perspective. Artists and writers need to be willing to learn and accept criticism, but they also have to be willing to remain true to their artistic vision and confidently stand behind the finished product."

"Sounds pretty contradictory," I said. "Maybe it's because I don't play any role in writing the works I appear in, but that's just how I see it."

"It's actually fairly simple, Akira-chan," Sasaki said. "A lot of people thought the ending of Two Moons was a cop-out for the author to avoid having a gay couple, and I did in the past, but I see it differently now that I've become a manga artist, and have to make compromises in order to commit my vision to the pages."

"So can you tell the story you want to?" I said.

"I try to," Sasaki said. "In any case, I think- or at least would like to believe- the author of Two Moons planned the ending out in advance and intended to see it through to that conclusion, no matter what people would think. I still don't approve of her decision, but understand her perspective as a manga artist, and hope I can make a manga I can be proud of."

I could definitely identify with that desire. I didn't like all the works I'd appeared in, but I'd always given them my best performance, so if nothing else, I could say I did a good job. Despite not being a huge fan of Breakneck Canyon, I intended to one day read the final chapter, so I could see how Sasaki would end the story.

* * *

**EVENT 5:** **Sayuri hopes we can stay in touch even if we leave.**

Sayuri invited me to her cabin. She had a poster for Breakneck Canyon on her side of the wall, as well as the covers of the magazines that featured her one-shots.

"You know, Akira-chan," Sayuri said, "I have a lot of reasons to get out of here- to return home, see my family and friends again, and resume my career, among others."

"So does everyone else here," I said. "What are you getting at?"

"At the same time, I don't want to part ways with everyone I've met on this trip," Sayuri said, "not you, not Miharu-chan, and not anyone else- well, _most_ of the class. After we've been through so much together, I don't want to lose touch with them, much less see them come to harm."

So this was why Sayuri was so serious about not wanting to graduate. In order to graduate, she'd have to sacrifice everyone else she'd gotten to know and befriended.

"Well, I've got an idea," I said. "If we get out of here, I could get a role in the anime adaptation of one of your projects, and we could work together, at least for a little while."

"That's a sound plan," Sayuri said, "except for the fact that the main cast of Breakneck Canyon is mostly male. I did make sure to include some female characters, though."

"Oh," I said. "Well, I prefer heterosexual romances for a few reasons, including the fact that they have male and female leads. At least with a yuri series, I could get into one of the two lead roles."

Sayuri nodded.

"Well, I'll keep that in mind for the future," Sayuri said, "and maybe my next series will have a main couple with a guy and a girl, or two girls. I'm sure that if you're not busy, you'll be able to handle any role I have for you."

"Thanks," I said. "I'm looking forward to seeing what you'll make next, Sayuri."

Sayuri and I shook hands. The odds of us getting out of the killing school game by ourselves, let alone with everyone else who was still alive, weren't good, to say the least. That said, we'd overcome significant odds before in order to launch our manga and acting careers. Our success wasn't guaranteed, but I felt a little better facing the odds with a good friend who'd also overcome them in the past.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Skill: Artist's Eye** : Gets a peek at a partially revealed image in Mind Mine.

 **Sasaki's Undergarments** : A pair of panties that's well-suited to long drawing sessions on deadlines.

_SPOILER ALERT: Chapter I Victim_

Sasaki's proposal for Azuki is inspired by the premise for Bakuman.

I decided not to mention Tsukimura in Sasaki's final FTE, since the chain would probably be completed after the latter's murder. As for Mihama, without spoiling too much, Sasaki will not die _before_ her.

Sasaki is the senpai of Mitamura from the previous fic. She shares Mitamura's perfectionism, but rather than being obsessed with living up to that ideal, she instead strives to improve herself.

This Side Story is in memory of the victims of the KyoAni fire. I don't usually do dedications like this unless they're relevant, but I thought I'd include a mention of them in light of how they treat their hard-working animators better than most other studios. Since Sasaki has worked hard and made sacrifices to produce a popular manga series, it's a good time to include a reminder of all the hard-working people who work together to bring us our favorite anime.

**Sayuri Sasaki**

**Talent:** Ultimate Manga Artist

 **Height** : 165 cm (5'5")

 **Birthday:** July 15 (Cancer)

 **Likes:** Tea.

 **Dislikes:** Poorly-written endings.

 **Hobby:** Reading manga, sketching.


	9. Free Time Events: Hikaru Kurogane

**Free Time Events: Hikaru Kurogane**

**EVENT 1: Kurogane is very competitive and always in search of worthy opponents.**

Kurogane told me a few stories about his games, but eventually stopped when he realized that hearing about a game wasn't nearly as fun as watching it. A game that involved placing and flipping over black and white stones wasn't all that much of a spectator sport, and he knew it.

"So, Azuki-san," Kurogane said. "I don't suppose anyone else in our class is any good at go?"

"My guess is no," I said. "Except for Nagato and Asakura, and _maybe_ the twins, pretty much everyone else has wildly different talents. They're the best at what they do, but with a few exceptions, only so-so when it comes to everyone else's talents."

"That's a shame," Kurogane said. "I'd like someone to play against, but preferably someone who can put up a good fight. Don't take it personally."

I nodded in understanding, since I wouldn't recommend any of my classmates for anything more than extras in films (although Taiga could write a song for Tatsuki to perform). Then again, while it was only natural that I wouldn't want amateurs to drag down a professional film production, I wouldn't be too put out if only amateurs competed against me for a leading roel.

"I won't," I said, "but why exactly do you want tough opponents?"

"Two reasons," Kurogane said. "The first is that they help keep me sharp. If I don't play for a while, I'll get rusty, but if I only play weak opponents, I might end up becoming complacent and developing bad habits. After all, Kumakura-kun wouldn't have become the Ultimate Weightlifter if he hadn't gradually increased the amount of weight he lifts, would he?"

"Yeah," I said, "but he's smart enough not to push himself so hard he gets hurt."

When I thought about it, challenge wasn't really an issue when it came to acting. There were complex characters and simples ones, but all of them deserved my best efforts. Even when I got a role I didn't like in a film that wasn't any good, I always gave it my all.

"The other reason," Kurogane said, "is that I enjoy a challenge. The best part of winning is feeling that you've earned it. That's why so many stories of competitions have the heroes prevail in the face of overwhelming odds and win at the last moment; stories like those are inspiring."

"I don't know about that," I said. "To me, the word for that sort of thing is _cliched_."

"Maybe they are," Kurogane said, "but they've always resonated with me. After all, if the heroes can succeed in a situation like that, it sends the message to not give up when facing lesser difficulties."

I shrugged. Maybe it was hypocritical of me to say this when I'd beaten the odds to become an actress, but I always thought there were times when people were better off giving up, particularly when they had much to lose, little to gain and long odds against them.

"I guess I get where you're coming from," I said, "but it seems kind of funny that you'd say that, since you're less of an underdog and more of a, well, overdog."

"Maybe I am," Kurogane said, "but just because I'm the Ultimate Go Player doesn't mean I _always_ was, or that I'm good at _everything._ "

I nodded, and kept that in mind. While I was the Ultimate Actress, there were all sorts of things I had no experience in or talent for, even if you only counted the movie industry. Because of that, even someone like me had to be impressed by the skill my contemporaries displayed in their respective fields.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Kurogane got into go after having a fairly rough time competing against his family in shogi.**

Kurogane asked about my family. I mentioned that my mom was my manager, while my dad was a businessman. He was a bit interested to hear about my mom's role in my career, but luckily for me, didn't ask about my dad too much.

"So, Kurogane," I said, "you said the rest of your family plays shogi, don't they?"

"Yeah," Kurogane said. "It's a Kurogane family tradition that some say goes back to when shogi was first created, but that's a bit of an exaggeration. What isn't an exaggeration is that everyone in my family has played shogi at some point... myself included"

"Ah, yes, I do remember," I said, "but didn't you say that you _used to_ play shogi?"

"Yeah," Kurogane said. "I wasn't _terrible_ at it, but there were a lot of people in my family I couldn't hope to defeat, so eventually, I stopped trying."

I furrowed my brow. What Kurogane said wasn't too strange when considered by itself, but it didn't quite mesh with what he'd said earlier.

"That's odd," I said. "Didn't you say that you were all about a challenge?"

"I am," Kurogane said, "but it isn't fun if you don't have a chance. Kojima-kun and I talked about video games' difficulty setting, and he said the ideal setting for most people would be one that forced them to do their best, but wasn't too hard that they couldn't possibly win, although he said people have different tastes. That's why he included five choices in his games- you can beat the game in your sleep on Very Easy, Easy's for RPG newbies, Normal's for most people, Hard is for RPG veterans or people who have played the game before, and Very Hard is for people who think dying to a boss dozens of times is fun. Obviously, experienced gamers will get bored on Very Easy, whereas newbies who try Very Hard will lose without learning anything, and only end up getting frustrated."

I nodded, realizing his point. While I wouldn't be bored with an "easy" role, I knew that any actors who got assigned parts they weren't ready for would be in for a rather unpleasant experience. Because of that, the people who pulled strings to get their relatives or friends parts they didn't deserve wouldn't be doing them any favors.

"Yeah," I said. "If I wasn't any good at acting, I don't think I'd have even gotten started."

"For me, a newcomer to shogi, playing against my family was somewhere between Hard and Very Hard," Kurogane said. "After a few games in which I was shown how to play, I was pitted against those who'd been playing since before I was born. Defeat can be a learning experience, and I learned a lot from some of my losses in go, but being beaten by my family only brought me humiliation. True, I could have gotten better if I'd practiced, but every day, my cousins and the others around my age were getting farther and farther ahead. Eventually, I just stopped trying."

"I get what you're saying," I said. "I'd probably have given up, too, in a situation like that. But what if you were enough of a match for your family that you had a chance to win?"

"Then things might have been different," Kurogane said. "In fact, I've faced my own share of struggles on the way in go, so it's not as though I quit whenever things get tough. But not only does the path I walk have to be one that I can walk, but it also has to be fulfilling to walk it, and competing with my family was neither."

I couldn't help but thing about how we might have turned out. Maybe, instead of an actress, I might have gone into a mundane occupation or become a housewife. Maybe one of my less talented classmates might have made it into showbiz. Maybe Kurogane might have been the Ultimate Shogi Player.

* * *

**EVENT 3: Kurogane found that he had a talent for go, and eventually surpassed his peers, something he has mixed feelings about.**

Kurogane told me a little about the strategy behind go and how to play. I was glad to learn more about it, but knew it wouldn't really help me close the gap between us.

"So, Azuki-san, where did we leave off last time?" Kurogane said.

"Mostly, you talked about shogi," I said, "and how much better your family was at it, but you never mentioned go."

"Oh, right," Kurogane said. "I first got started at it while playing at a friend's house. His older brother had a fair amount of playing experience so he showed me how to do it. Since I ended up actually beating him before long, I wonder if he ended up regretting it."

"Ouch," I said. "That's got to be humiliating."

"Yeah," Kurogane said. "Then again, even though I felt bad for my friend's brother, I also felt a little proud of myself. Even after practicing shogi all the time, I never felt as though I was good at the game."

A healthy sense of confidence was a bit of a chicken and the egg proposition- you needed to be reasonably confident in yourself in order to succeed, but also needed some success to serve as the basis of that confidence. With that in mind, it was no surprise why Kurogane did a hell of a lot better in go than in shogi.

"So what happened next?" I said.

"I helped my elementary school found a go club," Kurogane said. "One of the older kids, who'd rounded up a few of his friends to form the club, ended up becoming the first club president, even if he wasn't our best player."

"Got it," I said. "I guess you're the person in question, right?"

"You could say that," Kurogane said, "since I ended up winning against the rest of the club. The faculty advisor suggested that I take part in competitions, and after winning a few, I eventually became a young go pro."

I wasn't entirely sure what to think about this. While Kurogane's tone was satisfied and even proud, I noticed a hint of unease in it.

"You don't see entirely happy about it," I said.

"It had its ups and downs," Kurogane said. "On the plus side, I did move on to bigger and better things, but on the minus side, I left my less talented peers behind."

"That sucks," I said. "Then again, it's possible for people like us to go to different high schools from our middle school classmates, even before we get accepted to Talent High School."

"True," Kurogane said, "but at least they're moving on to something bigger, even if it's not quite as good as what we're involved in. To use another video game analogy, it's a bit like my friends are stuck on Level 3, while I'm up to Level 10."

"Out of how many?" I said. "And are we talking stages or experience levels?"

Kurogane shrugged.

"You can think of it either way," Kurogane said. "I have a significantly higher experience level than my old friends, and I've also overcome many challenges. Of course, there are many people out there who are better than me, and many battles I have yet to fight. It could even be one of those games that continues until you die. I wonder how far I'll end up getting."

Kurogane's eyes lit up, showing me the ambition that had taken him this far. Perhaps he still regretted the fact that his friends couldn't walk this path alongside him, but I hoped he would continue onward in spite of that.

* * *

**EVENT 4: Kurogane regrets leaving his friends behind.**

Kurogane and I shared a few stories about our school clubs, which were more often about the members than what we did together. Focusing on our shared experiences helped emphasize what we had in common, not just how different we were.

"I'm curious about something, Azuki-san," Kurogane said. "Have you ever spent much time with actors or actresses who were not nearly as skilled as you?"

"Yeah," I said, "back in elementary school, when we did plays. That sort of thing was about as much as some of them could do."

"I thought so," Kurogane said. "So I have two questions. First, I suppose they couldn't hope to get parts in any of your movies? And second, I don't suppose you'd be interested in doing plays with them?"

I paused to think about my answer.

"My first answer is hell no," I said. "No self-respecting director would hire them for any role more important or difficult than an extra. As for my second, doing the plays with them is fun, but it wouldn't earn me any money or do my career much good."

"Fair enough," Kurogane said. "Some of the older pros I met made certain to educate me what it meant to be a professional. You don't just have to do what you do better than an amateur, but be more mindful of how you do it."

I had to agree. Kurogane probably wasn't as big or as visible of a celebrity as I was, but he probably had to be careful about his reputation. If my mom was raising a go pro rather than an actress, she'd still give me the same lectures.

"Anyway, I once talked with Kojima-kun about this sort of thing," Kurogane said, "and he said that taking a group that's highly imbalanced in terms of talent can often result in one of a few outcomes. One is that the more experienced person ends up carrying the less experienced members, who then proceed to become dependent on that person. Another is that the less experienced people hold those who are more experienced back. A third is that the more experienced person ends up teaching the less experienced people something, but it's generally a mentor-protégé relationship with no direct benefit to the mentor."

"So what are you getting at?" I said.

"Every time I improve myself, my less skilled peers are left behind," Kurogane said, "just as my own family left me in the dust when it came to shogi."

I shrugged. There were always a finite amount of jobs in any given field, and there were some people who just couldn't cut it. This was an inescapable reality of life, and Kurogane was one of the few who actually thought about it despite getting what he'd wanted.

"Well what are you going to do about it?" I said. "It's not exactly fair to hold yourself back for the sake of others, nor is it fair to expect your friends to make it up to your level if they're lacking the talent and/or work ethic. Pretty much any school club has people who are just doing it as a hobby and those who might just do it for a living."

"True," Kurogane said. "If nothing else, my old friends never planned to go pro, nor did I think less of them for not doing so. It goes both ways, too, since they aren't jealous of me. As for me, I guess I haven't let that slow me down or make me look back, have I?"

"I guess not," I said. "One of my old friends, who'd failed to get the role of the princess in our class play, told me that she already knew how far she could get as an actress, and wanted to see how far I could get. If I give up or hold back, then I'm not only cheating myself out of my own success, but I'm cheating her out of the answer."

"Good for you," Kurogane said. "I've been told that I owe it to others to succeed, not just myself. Sometimes it just seems like just a way for me to feel good about my own success, but there's a certain amount of truth to it. A lot of people are watching and supporting me, so I don't intend to let them down."

I'd heard that part of the reason Hope's Peak Academy and Talent High School recruited talented young people like us was because we were "symbols of hope" who could accomplish great things in our respective fields and serve as inspirations to others. While I'd gotten into acting because I liked and was good at it, I did genuinely hope that people enjoyed my work. If I slacked off or gave up acting entirely, my fans would be disappointed, so for their sake, as well as my own, I'd give it my all.

* * *

**EVENT 5: Kurogane's determined to make a comeback.**

Kurogane invited me to his cabin. There weren't many decorations on his walls, but he had a go board on his side. We played a game together, and he kicked my ass, to put it mildly. Despite that, he was giving it his all, so he was clearly having good time... just like I was.

"Good game, Kurogane," I said. "It looks like you haven't lost your touch at all."

"Thanks, Azuki-san," Kurogane said, "but I'm not so sure of that. In my next game against a pro, I might just get careless, slip up and lose. My ranking could fall, and I might even need to take a hiatus to get my skills back."

Even though the prospect seemed pretty damn disturbing, I could see a faint smile on Kurogane's face.

"You sound almost happy," I said.

"It wouldn't be such a bad thing," Kurogane said. "If my skills are rusty, I'll just have to sharpen them again. If I have to work my way back up the ranks, then so be it- I know I did so the first time. I'd just be glad to get out of here."

I nodded. I was just as willing to rebuild my career if I had to, possibly because the fact that I'd succeeded once helped make me confident that I'd be able to do so again.

"Me too," I said. "Since I'm in a similar situation, this killing game helps us put things into perspective."

"It certainly does," Kurogane said. "If we get out of here, look me up if you'd like a friendly game of go."

"I sure will, Kurogane," I said, "once I'm sure I'll be able to pose a challenge to you."

"Then we have a deal, Azuki-san," Kurogane said. "I'm looking forward to that day."

We shook hands. While killing game was the official name for our predicament, calling it a "game" was an insult to those who spent their entire lives mastering games. Kurogane was one such person, so if he ever managed to get out and resume battling it out with other go pros, I'd root for him.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Skill: Reversal:** After removing tiles in Mind Mine, changes which color the adjacent ones transform into.

 **Hikaru's Undergarments:** A pair of white briefs that, when turned inside out, turn black.

Hikaru is meant to be a foil to Shiro Kurogane from my previous fic (again, the two are cousins). While Shiro is obsessed with proving himself, Hikaru enjoys facing challenging opponents.

Hikaru is named after Hikaru Shindo, a young go player who is the protagonist of Hikaru no Go.

What follows is an omake after Miura's interview, after Hikaru has been at Talent High School for a year.

**Hikaru Kurogane**

**Talent:** Ultimate Go Player

 **Birthday:** March 1 (Pisces)

 **Height** (5'8")

 **Likes** : Friendly competition.

 **Dislikes:** Shogi

 **Hobby:** Watching video games.

* * *

**Omake**

_Hikaru's POV_

A year after I got into Talent High School, the other shoe dropped and my cousin Shiro did, too, as the Ultimate Shogi Player. A few weeks after his interview, the family held a gathering at our grandfather's house to discuss the news. Since the intra-family rivalries could get fairly intense, this event naturally involved many of Shiro's aunts and uncles making hollow congratulations to him and his parents.

I sought out Shiro himself once we had a moment alone.

"Congratulations on getting into Talent High School, Shiro," I said.

"Very funny, Hikaru-nii-san, " Shiro said. "Are you here to mock me, too?"

"Why would I?" I said. "Getting into Talent High School is no mean feat, especially when doing so requires defeating a former shogi champion, and I'm glad we can go to the same high school."

Shiro looked a bit ashamed. For as long as I'd known him, he'd had trouble with apologizing, even when he knew he was in the wrong.

"I'm sorry," Shiro said. "I guess my parents didn't tell you, right?"

"Tell me what?" I said.

Shiro sighed.

"After I defeated the shogi champion, I was told I'd have one other opponent," Shiro said, "a girl my age named Miura, who'd never played shogi before."

I paused for a moment. While there were prodigies in shogi, and Shiro was one of them, they couldn't realize their skills without instruction and practical experience.

"Did I hear that right?" I said. "You said Miura-san had never played before?"

"Not at all," Shiro said, "since they wanted to test whether she could win in spite of that. I assumed they were playing a joke of some sort on me, since they said this wouldn't affect my getting in, but somehow, Miura lucked out and won the game. Now I've lost to an amateur, and my parents are furious with me. They know they'd never live it down if your parents or the rest of our family found out."

Unfortunately, Shiro's concerns were well-founded. My parents had sometimes complained to each other and to me about Shiro's success, as well as my failure to surpass them. They'd undoubtedly get no small amount of schadenfreude from hearing about Shiro being defeated by a newcomer like Miura-san.

"Well, my lips are sealed," I said. "It's unfortunate that your parents feel that way, but I think losing to Miura-san may be a good thing in the long term."

"Good?!" Shiro said. "You can't possibly be serious."

"Yes," I said. "I don't believe a winning record is possible or necessary. I believe that it's possible for you to learn from and bounce back from that defeat to become an even better player."

Shiro sighed and shook his head. He still didn't fully believe what I was saying, but at least he could understand what I was arguing.

"If you say so," Shiro said. "I wonder if you'll say the same thing if you lose to her."

"I'm looking forward to facing her," I said. "I'll do my best to win, but if I lose, it may be a beneficial learning experience."

Shiro chuckled. Maybe he wasn't in the right frame of mind to get over his loss to Miura-san just yet, but he knew me well enough to know that I meant what I said.

"Well, I guess you are serious about it," Shiro said. "Give it your all, and know that I'll be rooting for you."

"Thanks, Shiro," I said. "While I think that losing to Miura-san may be a good thing, that doesn't mean that I don't hope you'll win against her when you face her again."

While some people thought Shiro's loss was yet another story of an overconfident prodigy who'd gotten careless, they didn't realize how hard he'd worked to get where he was. He had talent, but he also worked harder than anyone else in the family, which was the real reason why I could never catch up to him. Since he'd earned his status as a champion once, I had no doubt that he could do so again.


	10. Free Time Events: Shigeru Kojima

**Free Time Events: Shigeru Kojima**

**EVENT 1: Kojima has always liked playing video games.**

I struck up a conversation with Kojima, realizing that I didn't know much about him apart from his name, his talent and his blatantly obvious crush on me. I decided to start with his magnum opus, Realm of Three Kings.

"So, Kojima," I said, "I guess you like video games, don't you?"

"You bet," Kojima said. "Not only are they a lot of fun, but they're pretty much the ultimate medium for entertainment, combining audio, visuals and player interactivity."

I shrugged. I was only a casual video gamer, only playing games that didn't require much time investment, but I'd done some voice acting work for video games. That said, I'd heard about a lot of pretty awful video games.

"I don't know about that," I said. "Any medium only offers the _potential_ for a good story, and it's up to the creators to make full use of that potential, tailoring their story to fit the medium. If any one of those elements involved in a video game is lacking, it drags down the quality of the final product. And if _all_ of them are crappy, then the results can be... spectacular."

"True," Kojima said. "Of course, the biggest disappointments in the gaming industry aren't always the terrible games- they're often the merely adequate ones. There's a lot of good developers that simply churn out by-the-numbers titles simply because they make a lot of money."

"I get that," I said, "but you'll see that in a lot of places. The entertainment industry is a business, companies need to make money to stay solvent. It can be difficult to justify a project that won't necessarily have good returns."

While I wasn't directly involved in the business side of the works I'd appeared in, I heard enough of the whisperings about profitability to know how big of a deal it was.

"Yeah, I know," Kojima said, "but it sucks when a potentially good idea gets axed just because people don't _think_ it'll sell, in favor of yet another soulless cash cow. Maybe I don't understand it yet, since I'm not doing it for a living, or working for a big corporation, but I hope I'll never forget my desire to create a game that people can love."

"Me neither," I said.

I had to admit that I was a bit surprised about Kojima. He'd initially struck me as a guy who just wanted to get in my pants- and to some degree, he still did- but there was also a side of him that was really serious about his craft. If that side of him was the one that was most frequently visible, I wouldn't mind seeing him more often.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Like everyone else, Kojima had to start small.**

Kojima and I talked for a little bit about video game movies. While we agreed that they sucked, we had very different ideas as to why they sucked so much- I thought they were terrible from an artistic perspective, whereas Kojima thought they were piss-poor adaptations of his favorite games.

"So, Azuki," Kojima said, "are you interested in hearing about my other projects?"

"You mean before Three Kings?" I said.

"Yeah," Kojima said. "Before that, I made some pretty basic stuff while I was getting the hang of coding. My very first 'game,' if you could call it that, was a 3D maze, in which you walk around and find the exit. There's no monsters or hazards- just the floor at your feet, the ceiling above you, and a lot of walls between the start and the finish."

"Sounds pretty basic," I said, "a bit like an aspiring director walking around the house with a camcorder."

"It was," Kojima said. "I was proud of myself when I finished it and showed it to my friends, but I knew how far I had to go."

As proud as I was of all the roles I played, I had to admit that the stories I'd appeared in were other people's creations. Maybe if I was the Ultimate Script Writer, rather than the Ultimate Actress, I'd know more about the feeling of honing your skill and producing better work over time, but I could get what Kojima was saying.

"That's true," I said, "but you don't have the resources available to the professional game developers, do you?"

"Nope," Kojima said. "They've got huge teams of experienced specialists working in a huge office building with state of the art technology and a large budget over a period of months to years. Meanwhile, I was just a middle school student working with the PC in my room, on my own time and with my own money. When I put it that way, it seems kind of arrogant thinking that I could challenge the big companies."

I shook my head. Kojima might have overestimated his own capabilities, but his confidence and ambition had enabled him to get this far. It wasn't too different from my belief that I was a better actress than all other contenders, both amateurs and pros.

"Maybe it does," I said, "but there's lots of stories of famous companies making a big-budget movie with star power that turns out to be a dud. From what I've heard about how bad video games can be, it isn't too much to think that you could do better than those."

"Yeah," Kojima said, "and I wasn't the only one. In middle school, I met some new friends who had various talents, and got the idea to make a game together. That game was Realm of Three Kings."

"And I guess you ended up attracting Talent High School's attention, didn't you?" I said.

Kojima nodded. When it came down to it, all our pre-Talent High School life stories ended the same way, and the only difference was how they got to that ending.

"Yeah," Kojima said, "which is kinda weird, since none of the people on the board seemed like they were into video games. From what I heard, all of them had backgrounds in education and running schools, and probably never had the time to pick up a controller."

"You might be right," I said, "but that's why they bring in other people to evaluate the prospective Ultimates. In my case, some people from the movie industry came to evaluate me."

"That sounds like a good idea," Kojima said, "but no one like that showed up when I got evaluated. The headmistress and the board just played Three Kings for a while, asked me about it, then invited me to their school."

"Huh," I said. "Well, I guess they must have been pretty damn confident in your skills."

"I guess they were," Kojima said, "because I can't see any job interview for a position at a big gaming company going that smoothly. But hey, I probably shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth."

Kojima and I decided to leave it at that. I had to admit that while I was still curious about Talent High School's admission process, and how it had gotten two people with the same title in the same year, I was more curious about Kojima for now. For an Ultimate, he seemed surprisingly humble, as if he realized that there was untapped potential within... or maybe, he didn't feel worthy of his title.

* * *

**EVENT 3: While Three Kings is a masterpiece, Kojima wasn't able to put all the features into it that he'd hoped to.**

Kojima and I talked about movie production, particularly all the effort that the general public didn't know about unless they took the time to read about what went on behind the scenes. One topic we covered was the scenes that didn't make it into the final movie.

"So, Azuki," Kojima said. "Do scenes often get deleted from movies?"

"Yeah," I said. "Sometimes, they don't fit with the director's vision of the final project, and other times, we just need to cut them out to get the running time down to a reasonable level. Then again, you can see them on the home release- the ones that got filmed, anyway- and debate whether they should have been left out in the first place."

I had to admit that I was personally grateful for the outtakes. The deleted scenes might not have been worth including, but they were still my work, and I was glad dedicated fans could see them. Kojima, however, seemed pensive, and I could tell he was thinking about his work.

"I've had to cut a fair amount from video games," Kojima said. "You know how the villagers act in Three Kings?"

"I do," I said. "I recall hearing that, for example, a farmer would be seen tilling his fields by day, retiring to his house in the evening, and sleeping at night. Those sorts of routines were praised for being realistic."

"They were," Kojima said glumly, "but that's not how I envisioned it, since it was supposed to be more elaborate. If you set fire to his field, he'd rush to put it out. If he couldn't, and the flames consumed his crops, he'd probably starve, and the nearby village might run into a food shortage. Here, he keeps on visiting his field, even if it's nothing but ashes."

In theory, it wasn't too hard to imagine how someone would act in any given situation if you were reasonably intelligent had some idea of what the other person was like. In practice, actually programming NPCs to act like real people and less like robots following their programmed instructions would be incredibly difficult, almost impossible.

"But you tried to do something about it, didn't you?" I said.

"Yeah," I said. "I talked with my team about it, and we concluded that what I was thinking of would require a lot of work, since it'd involve several different NPCs and entire towns, not just the one farmer. It'd be one thing if this was a choice you made in a linear, story-driven game, but it's a whole another story for a more open-world game like Three Kings, so we scrapped the feature."

I shrugged.

"Well, that's a shame," I said, "but I doubt a lot of people would be sad that you can't starve virtual peasants to death in a video game."

"Maybe not," Kojima said, "but I'd like to ask you this. Why do you have to start over if you die in a video game?"

"Because the game wants you to keep trying until you can overcome the challenge?" I said.

"That's part of the reason," Kojima said, "but think about it from a story perspective. If the hero of the story, who's probably the one person capable of saving the world, suddenly gets killed, the game would permanently diverge from the path the writers intended it to follow. It goes to show how artificial and easily broken video game worlds can be."

I shrugged. I'd heard of games in which the deaths of plot-critical NPCs resulted in you getting a Game Over (even if said NPCs ended up dying later on), simply because those characters would be unable fulfill their roles in the story. That said, it seemed kind of selfish to assume that the world wouldn't go on without any given person, even if that person was talented or famous.

"That's true," I said. "If I got murdered or executed today, I'm sure everyone who's still alive here, not to mention the billions of people in the outside world, would just go on with their lives."

Kojima winced, and for a moment, I regretted using myself as an example around him. I'd always thought his feelings for me were nothing more than an infatuation, but maybe he would be heartbroken if I died. After a moment, though, he nodded.

"Well, that's what I was aiming for," Kojima said, "a game in which you're less like an actor in someone else's story, and more a citizen of the world. It'd feel less like a stage constructed just to tell a story, and more like a world created for the player to live in. Don't get me wrong; I actually enjoy playing linear and story-based games, but this is the sort of game I'd like to _make_... if I could."

Kojima soon changed the subject with a not-so-subtle attempt to ask me out, but while his interest in me hadn't abated, he seemed more like he didn't want to continue our current discussion any further right now. Realizing this, I brushed him off, but hoped that eventually, he'd be willing to talk.

* * *

**EVENT 4: Kojima wishes he was good enough to make the game he really wants to make.**

Kojima and I talked about how hard or easy video games could be, as well as difficulty settings, particularly the unconventional difficulty settings in Three Kings. "Hero" was more or less a standard challenge. "Mortal" was brutally difficult, with several added mechanics- your character needed rest (and could be attacked while asleep),  food and water, and could suffer from disease or debilitating injuries. "God"(or "Goddess", for female player characters) made the player able to do practically anything, since it was inspired by the mode used while debugging the game.

"I'd like to know something, Azuki," Kojima said. "Have you ever been unable to do something you wanted, just because you didn't have the skill?"

"I honestly don't know," I said. "Acting is simply about playing the part as well as you need to, which involves a mix of imagination and expression. The only part of my role I can't do myself is the stunts, and we have professionals for that."

One of my costars once told me to never think of the stunt doubles as "expendable" people who did the stunts that were too dangerous for the actors, since their expertise was just as necessary for the film as ours was.

"Well, I talked with Sasaki recently," Kojima said, "and she said she had the same problem. I once thought her work was simple compared to mine, or at least more low-tech, but after hearing about the crazy deadlines and the insane amount of work she had to do to draw the pages, then I guess she has it rough, too."

"Yeah," I said. "Employees at professional game companies have to work insane hours, but I guess you knew that, already."

Kojima nodded. While I'd heard that he hadn't been under much pressure to release Three Kings on time, since no one had heard of him prior to the game, and he hadn't promised a release date, amateurs had problems of their own. They had to work on their endeavors outside of school hours, balancing their passions with homework and studying for tests. Apparently, Talent High School and Hope's Peak Academy were as sought-after as they were because they were unusually lenient about absences, enabling students to take time off while developing their talents.

"Anyway," Kojima said, "it reminds me a bit of English class. Sometimes, I had something I wanted to say, but couldn't say it well enough to express that. I once told my teacher that, and he said that if I wanted to express myself better, then I needed to improve my skills."

"Wow, that sure was helpful," I said sarcastically.

"I know," Kojima said, "but he did have a point. In video games, there are many challenges that your character- not to mention you, the player- might not have the skill to overcome, such as being too low level to handle a boss, or not having a good enough lockpicking skill to open a chest. Rather than complain about not having the ability, either you find a way around it- like avoiding the monsters or finding the key to the chest- or improve enough to do what you want."

I definitely agreed with Kojima on that point. When you ran into a problem that was too hard for you to handle, you could either bitch about it or suck it up and get good enough to overcome it. Obviously, the latter was easier said than done, but it was a choice most of the successful people I knew had made.

"I agree," I said. "I don't think any of the Ultimates would have gotten that far if they were lazy."

"My thoughts exactly," Kojima said. "I didn't improve my skills to become the Ultimate Game Designer, but to become a game designer who can make the game I want. I'm not sure I'm worthy of the title, but..."

"But?" I said.

Kojima paused and looked a bit sheepish, as though he'd said a bit too much. Since he couldn't rewind and undo what he'd just said, he could clarify his remark in hopes that I'd interpret it how he wanted..

"Well, let me rephrase it," Kojima said. "My team helped me a lot, so it isn't solely my accomplishment."

"Maybe not," I said, "but even in any team sport or undertaking as a group, it's possible to be exceptional at your given role, and be recognized for your talent. I'm sure Talent High School saw potential in you."

"Yeah, they did," Kojima said, "and I'm going to live up to their faith in me. Even if my most recent project didn't turn out quite as well as I hoped, I'll just have to do better next time. Besides, it's not as though I was hoping to rest on my laurels, anyway."

I wished Kojima the best of luck. The Ultimates were never one-hit wonders, but budding talents that the school hoped would bloom into promising careers. Not all of those careers lasted forever, but the Ultimates made the most of their time- after all, they wouldn't have gotten this far if they hadn't.

* * *

**EVENT 5: I'm still not entirely comfortable around Kojima, but he seems like he might eventually be a good friend.**

I decided to hang out with Kojima, but not in his room, so as to avoid giving him the wrong idea. While I didn't think Three Kings had any merchandise, I could bet that his side of Cabin M2 had video game-themed decorations.

"So what's your next project, Kojima?" I said.

"Apart from getting out of here?" Kojima said. "It won't be a sequel to Realm of Three Kings. I don't intend to simply crank out the same game time and time again just to make easy cash."

Kojima's sentiment was commendable, but I had to wonder whether he'd be able to keep it up once he grew up and had to put food on the table for himself, the woman he'd end up marrying and any kids they'd have.

"Good for you," I said, "but what do you mean 'probably'?"

"A sequel isn't completely off the table," Kojima said, "but I'd only do one if I could build on the core concept while staying true to what people loved about the original. In all likelihood, I'd make something else that's engaging, deep and realistic. My dream project would be a life simulator, in which you go to school, develop your skills and get a job in the game world, maybe even the one you've always wanted to do in real life."

"I don't suppose that's easy, is it?" I said.

"Not at all," Kojima said, "but if you do make your dream a reality, it'll be almost as impressive as if you did it in real life. I personally like making games challenging, so your achievements feel meaningful. "

I chuckled. I couldn't help but wonder if I'd be able to succeed as an actress inside the game world, since it probably required different skills from doing it in real life. After all, Tatsuki couldn't necessarily win at a guitar game, even if she was playing one of her own songs. As for Kojima, what he said was perfectly like him, and certainly explained why he set his sights so high when it came to making games.

"Sounds pretty ambitious," I said. "Let me know if you manage to actually make it, and I'll check it out."

"Glad to hear it, Azuki," Kojima said, "and if you're available, I could have a voice acting gig lined up for you."

"I'll be looking forward to that," I said. "If your project ever gets made, give my agency a call. My manager's my mother, Azusa Azuki, and her number is..."

Kojima nervously chuckled upon hearing "my mother," and probably didn't hear her phone number. My mom was actually pretty nice, and would approve of any boyfriend I brought home as long as she was sure I knew what I was getting into. That said, if letting Kojima think my mom was the classic overbearing mother-in-law kept him at bay, then I wouldn't convince him otherwise.

I thought about Kojima's crush on me, but, at least for this moment, concluded that he wasn't making the offer out of his infatuation with me, but out of a desire to include me in his grand undertaking. I hoped the day would come when I could accept his offer, and when he would see me as a friend rather than a mere crush.

* * *

**Skill:** Cheat Code: No penalty for shooting statements with the silencer. **** ~~~~

**Shigeru's Undergarments** : A pair of briefs with classic video game characters on them.

This Free Time Evens chain was meant to explore Kojima's passion for gaming, and show a side of him that Azuki doesn't often see. While her lack of interest in him (at best) or outright disgust (at worst) is justified, she generally only sees the aspect of him that least appeals to her.

One thing that I show from time to time is that the Talent High School Ultimates aren't quite as accomplished as their Hope's Peak counterparts. While Edogawa from the first fic is probably the best young mystery writer in Japan, she isn't nearly as talented or prolific as Fukawa from the first game (of course, Edogawa is much nicer and better at interpersonal interactions).

The omake was originally going to be a separate chapter for Where Talent Went To School, but I decided to put it here. It reveals the origin of Final Dead Room: VR Edition (the motive for Chapter IV in the previous fic), and a little about Talent High School.

**Shigeru Kojima**

**Talent:** Ultmate Game Designer

 **Birthday:** May 16 (Taurus)

 **Height** : 172 cm (5'8")

 **Likes** : Akira Azuki, good video games.

 **Dislikes** : Anything that's made for a quick buck.

 **Hobby** : Video games

* * *

**Omake**

_Miura's POV_

In October of my first year at Talent High School, I sat in the computer lab, playing through Final Dead Room: VR Edition. The game hadn't been released, and curiously enough, was not intended to see wide-scale production, but I had been asked to beta test it.

Kojima-senpai started the project some time after beginning school here, a year before my arrival, and now that he was in his last year of high school, his project was finally ready for player testing. As such, hee turned to me, having heard that I played video games. I explained that I'd never played a virtual reality game before, and he said that was perfectly fine, since he wanted to see how easily I'd learn the controls.

Of course, that wasn't the problem. While the 30 minute time limit was somewhat onerous, as was being penalized 5 minutes for each mistake, it only took me a few attempts to complete the game.

After finishing it, I took off the headset and sat up. After jotting down some notes on the pad of paper I wrote on while playing the game, I went to Kojima-senpai's room, on the second floor of the dorms, and knocked on his door. Within moments, he answered the door.

"I'm finished with the game, Kojima-senpai" I said.

"Great,," Kojima-senpai said, pleased. "So, how was it?"

I sighed.

"Would you like to hear my honest opinion, Senpai?" I said.

"Nothing less," Kojima-senpai said. "I'm guessing you're not happy with it, though."

I sadly shook my head. While Kojima-senpai wasn't my boss, and couldn't punish me for rudeness, he was still my senpai, and I felt I owed him my respect. While calling him "Senpai" and using formal speech was easy enough, I wasn't comfortable joking around with him or saying anything that might offend him. Because of that, I wondered if Sae and I could have had the same relationship we did if she'd been my senpai rather than my classmate.

"Not at all," I said. "While the VR element is a good feature, the graphics are mediocre by the standards of VR games on the market right now, while the gameplay is, to be blunt, abysmal. The puzzles are highly simplistic, and since the game can only be completed in half an hour- maybe a couple hours if you count progression- I highly doubt anyone would be willing to buy it if it went for the same price as a popular new release, not counting the price of the console itself. I'm sorry."

I did a quick but deep bow of apology. Kojima-senpai, however, simply laughed in good humor.

"You hit the nail right on the head, Miura," Kojima-senpai said. "Thanks."

"Thanks?" I said incredulously.

"That's right- thanks," Kojima-senpai said. "I was hoping someone would realize that my game is a piece of crap, since it was doomed from the start."

"How so, Senpai?" I said.

"Because it's obvious the administration never played, much less worked on, a game before," Kojima-senpai said. "They asked me to make a revolutionary game by myself, and kept pushing the idea of having it in VR- the first thing that came to mind when they thought of a project worthy of the Ultimate Game Designer."

Talent High School's talent exams weren't as much of a big deal as Hope's Peak's, but the administration did often hold them to make sure that we were still worthy of our titles. Naturally, the criteria varied from student to student- I simply had to defeat a skilled opponent in a game I'd never completed before- and I suspected that Kojima-senpai had to work on a game. Of course, if the administration knew nothing about video gaming, then it would be almost impossible for them to fairly and accurately judge his talent.

"And they only gave you what, one or two years?" I said. "That would be fairly difficult for an established studio, much less a single very talented high schooler."

"Exactly," Kojima-senpai said. "I didn't complete Three Kings alone. I had several friends working on it, each worthy of an Ultimate title in their particular role, but I was the only one the school invited. The fact that the administration took me alone is an insult to my friends, but to ask me to make a great game by myself is a bad joke."

Kojima-senpai let off a long sigh, as if he realized he was getting carried away.

"But that's enough of my whining," Kojima-senpai said. "I'm sure it sounds like I'm just making excuses to you, and I probably am. Even if the board didn't exactly give me an easy task, the fact is that I'm not good enough."

"No, I understand," I said. "It reminds me of one time I got stuck on a minigame in a video game when I was younger, in which you have to pilot a radio-controlled aircraft. The controls were awkward and the time limit was unforgiving, but in the end, I cursed my own inability to do what I had to, not the game itself."

Kojima-senpai nodded in understanding. For much of my life, I'd struggled to come to grips with the fact that my own abilities weren't enough to achieve what I needed to, but now that I was at the nation's second most prestigious high school, I realized the same went for many of my Ultimate peers.

"Anyway, Kojima-senpai, what are you planning on doing about this?" I said. "Even if the test isn't exactly fair, you might get in trouble if they found out that I don't like it, would they?"

"I guess not," Kojima-senpai said, "but since your feedback won't determine my grade, they don't have to know about it."

"I suppose that's a relief," I said. "I was worried that there might be consequences if I didn't like it."

Kojima-senpai laughed out loud.

"I'm gonna be blunt, Miura," Kojima-senpai said. "You're not part of their hand-picked inner circle of talent judges, so your opinion doesn't mean squat to them. To me, though, it's the opposite. I could use someone as honest and detail-oriented as you, so look me up if you need a job as a beta tester.."

I nodded gratefully, and thanked Kojima-senpai for his understanding. Even if he wasn't satisfied with his project, he'd continue moving forward in order to make a game that he could be proud of, just like Sae kept working hard to write good mysteries. I didn't have their talents, but I could follow their example and blaze my own trail in life.


	11. Free Time Events: Tatsuki Tachibana

**Free Time Events: Tatsuki Tachibana**

**EVENT 1: Tatsuki has long enjoyed playing music. She thinks anyone can do it, even if not everyone can become a Rockstar.**

Tatsuki and I talked about some of our favorite songs. I was surprised to hear that Tatsuki liked a lot of music that was very different from the kind she played, such as Beethoven and Bach.

"I'm curious, Tachibana," I said. "What exactly got you interested in music?"

Tatsuki paused a moment. She didn't mind my switching to her last name now that we were alone, since we weren't exactly close friends, and she was flexible enough that she didn't mind my not using honorifics on her, even though she used "-san" on me. That said, the question was difficult enough that she had to think about it.

"It's hard to say, Azuki-san," Tatsuki said. "Taiga and I grew up listening to a lot of music, from the lullabies our mom sang us to the pop songs that were hits when we were kids. We liked some songs, didn't like others, and eventually developed our own tastes. The two of us are big J-rock fans, which is why I'm a guitarist."

I nodded. Entertainment was a huge part of our culture, so it was only natural that people who enjoyed partaking in other people's creations would want to make some of their own, and become popular icons in the process.

"As for how we came to _make_ music," Tatsuki said, "it was because of Kanade Otonashi, our music teacher from elementary school. She believed that everyone could sing and play music, and shared that belief with her students."

I shrugged, and wondered how best to poke holes in Tatsuki's teacher's beliefs. Obviously, people couldn't sing if they couldn't speak, and some people couldn't afford instruments.

"But obviously some people can do so better than others, right?" I said.

"I suppose," Tatsuki said, "but Otonashi-sensei honestly believed what she said, and for good reason. She was in a band with her friends when she was younger, and while they were obscure and only did local shows, they had a lot of fun together."

"I see," I said, "but they broke up in the end, didn't they?"

"They did," Tatsuki said sadly, "since they ended up going their separate ways after high school- going to college, finding jobs and/or getting married. They couldn't do it forever, but they had a lot of fun, parted on good terms and are still friends to this day. Did I mention that my mom was part of that group?"

"Not at all," I said. "I guess you inherited your love of music from her, didn't you?"

"You could say that," Tatsuki said, "but while Mom was supportive of us, she didn't push us to become musicians- only to find something that we love and could do well. She wasn't expecting us to make it big, but she let us launch Dragon Girl on one condition- we have a backup plan."

"Good for her," I said. "Maybe someday you'll have to hang up your guitar for good, just like I may have to quit acting, but you should enjoy it while it lasts."

Tatsuki nodded.

"I will," Tatsuki said. "I've always known that, of course, but hearing that advice from you means a lot."

I was glad to have another popular entertainment celebrity on the ship with me, since we'd have a lot to talk about. Our fields of expertise were different, but we'd succeeded against all odds, and now had to keep up the good work to please our bosses and entertain our legions of fans.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Tatsuki isn't fond of how competitive the music industry is (Unavailable if Azuki cannot access the Ursa Major)**

I listened to Tatsuki practice on the deck. She wasn't quite up to the same level she was at when performing live, but she was the Ultimate Guitarist for a reason.

"I'm curious, Azuki-san," Tatsuki said. "How many aspiring actors do you think you had to surpass in order to fulfill your dreams?"

"It's hard to say," I said, "since I keep my career alive one part at a time, and have to consistently win against others to earn those parts."

"Ah," Tatsuki said. "I'm sorry; that probably wasn't fair. I myself don't know how many people I had to outdo to become a guitarist."

Tatsuki seemed surprisingly glum. While anyone could pick up a guitar and start playing, you'd need a strong fan following and enough skill to prove yourself to the people who matter before you could quit your day job.

"You seem kind of down," I said. "Are you feeling pity for your rivals?"

"Well, yes," Tatsuki said. "They say that competition means that the best succeed, but I'd say that the excellent and the pretty good deserve success, too."

"You're not wrong," I said, "but it's hard to stand out in a saturated music market. Even with all the different genres and variations thereof, there's only so much room for new blood."

I'd heard about the idol singer industry, in which cute girls with passable singing voices enjoyed fifteen minutes of fame- almost literally- and were discarded once they were no longer useful. Even that crowd had pretty high standards for would-be idols, so not just anyone could make it there.

"Perhaps," Tatsuki said, "but each performer has their own unique vision, and their own way of doing things, and I'd love to hear what those people have in mind."

"Even if they end up becoming your rivals?" I said.

"That's true," Tatsuki said. "I once had a talk with Sasaki-san, and she said she was rooting for her own assistants to get their own manga serialized, even if they'd become her competitors. She sometimes critiqued their ideas, both to help them out and because she loved hearing them, and said she hoped that the more promising ones would get published."

"That sounds like her," I said. "Personally, I find that a bit hard to imagine, maybe because I don't really create anything."

"Neither do I," Tatsuki said, "since Taiga's the one who writes our songs. That said, we're of the same mind on that regard. The ability to create a good song- or movie, for that matter- is a really amazing skill to have. If it wasn't for Taiga, I probably wouldn't have gotten as far as I did."

I nodded, grateful that the directors and writers of the works that I'd appeared in had produced work that was good enough not to embarrass me. As I did, I noticed that Tatsuki, one of Japan's best young musical talents along with Hope's Peak's Ultimate Musician, was surprisingly humble about her talent, crediting much of her success to others.

* * *

**EVENT 3: According to Tatsuki, Taiga was just as good as she was, but lost her chance due to stage fright**

Tatsuki and I found a book of music and sang together for a while. I'd recorded a few songs myself, but Tatsuki was even better than me- her singing skills were practically Ultimate-caliber on their own.

"Do you remember what we were talking about last time?" Tatsuki said.

I paused to think for a moment.

"About how not everyone gets to become a rockstar like you?" I said. "Yeah, I do."

"That's right," Tatsuki said. "You might wonder why I feel sorry for the musicians who didn't make it, since they would have become my rivals. One of them, however, is closer and dearer to me than anyone else."

"You mean Taiga," i said.

Tatsuki nodded. It wasn't exactly a hard guess to make, considering how close the sisters were, Taiga's talent and how Tatsuki had all but said it outright last time.

"Exactly," Tatsuki said. "You may not know this, but Taiga is just as good of a guitarist as I am, at least back when we got started. Not only that, she's even better with musical theory, and is actually able to talk in depth about the subject, as well as how she makes our songs. So why isn't she the Ultimate Guitarist?"

I paused for a moment, waiting for Tatsuki to answer her own question, but the only reply I got was an expectant stare.

"You expect me to say why?" I said.

"I'm hoping you can make a guess," Tatsuki said. "If you don't have any idea what the reason might be, that's fine, but I thought you might be able to guess the answer."

I paused for a moment, replaying all my interactions with Taiga in my head like a security guard examining a surveillance camera's footage, starting from the beginning. Of course, that first memory- of her shyy introducing herself to me and to Nagato- was the one I needed.

"I think I might know," I said. "Does your sister suffer from stage fright?"

"Yes, she does," Tatsuki said. "I suppose you're speaking from personal experience, aren't you?"

"Yeah," I said. "People who perform in front of live audiences have to deal with that sort of thing, so musicians aren't any different from stage actresses. Anyway, what happened?"

Tatsuki sighed and paused for a moment, recalling what was probably a painful memory.

"The two of us practiced the guitar together for much of our childhood," Tatsuki said, "and eventually, we got a chance to perform in a talent show in our first year of middle school. The person in charge of the tryouts evaluated us separately, saying he'd consider letting us play as a duet if we were _both_ up to snuff. While I aced the audition, Taiga froze up in the middle of her performance. She could barely play a note, and when the organizer told her to get off the stage to let the next person come up, it was almost out of kindness."

"So in short, your success was mainly due to your being able to prove yourself when it mattered," I said, and Tatsuki silently concurred. "Anyway, how many people were there listening at the audition?"

"About ten," Tatsuki said, "since it was just the organizer, a few others working for the event and a few people who were auditioning, including us."

I sighed. The entertainment industry could be pretty fickle, and even outright unfair, when it came to deciding who deserved a shot at stardom, but the various talent scouts weren't wrong to test wannabes' mettle. There were a number of people who didn't have what it took, and Taiga was probably one of them.

"I see," I said. "Sorry, Tachibana, but if your sister couldn't handle playing in front of ten people, I doubt she could perform in front of thousands."

Tachibana sighed. While I didn't necessarily have to deal with stage fright while filming movies, since none of the millions who would watch my movies were there in the studio, I'd performed plays in front of an entire school. I didn't know the exact number of people who attended, but the auditorium had a seating capacity of hundreds of people, and it was close to bursting.

"I... I suppose not, Azuki-san" Tatsuki said. "In fact, Taiga told me as much after the decision was handed down, so I didn't see any point in arguing with it. Of course, even if she was really happy that I'd made it, she ended up locking herself in the bathroom and crying once we got home. She was mature enough to know that the decision was fair, but human enough to have her own desires... and be upset about not getting what she wanted."

I wondered how many girls ended up going home in tears after I defeated them in the auditions, but realized that I couldn't tell... and didn't want to. The only way I was able to feel completely good about the parts I'd won was that I didn't think about everyone who'd lost.

"As a result of what happened, Taiga feels inferior to me in some ways," Tatsuki said, "since it can be difficult to feel proud of yourself if no one acknowledges your talent- well, _almost_ no one, that is."

"Well, you do, don't you?" I said.

"Yes, of course," Tatsuki said, "but because my love for my sister is unconditional, Taiga sometimes wonders if she's earned my praise. The truth is that she did, since without her, I wouldn't have made it this far."

I nodded, and couldn't help but think about what it meant to praise someone. I wasn't exactly the nicest person around, and could be pretty blunt. That said, I didn't think of myself as completely heartless, and hoped that if I said something nice to people, they'd know I meant it.

* * *

**EVENT 4: Tatsuki considers Taiga to be more important than her, since Taiga creates music, while Tatsuki plays it. As such, Tatsuki hopes Taiga will be recognized for her effort.**

Tatsuki talked a little bit about famous composers, and then asked me for my favorite directors and script writers. While Shakespeare was my favorite playwright, I could also name a few favorites among the greats of the modern era. Unfortunately, none of them were people I'd worked for.

"Let me ask you something, Azuki-san," Tatsuki said. "Who do you think is more important- composers and directors, or musicians and actors?"

I paused to think for a momet.

"The former," I said. "Obviously, the latter is important, too, since you can't have a good movie with terrible actors, but even the best actors can't make a bad movie good. Likewise, even a great musician can only do so much with a lousy song."

Tatsuki smiled, clearly having gotten my point.

"I think so, too," Tatsuki said. "I'm a little surprised, though- a part of me expected you to say that the actors were most important."

"I get why you'd think that," I said, "but I have great respect for those who can make a good film, since it's a talent I don't have."

"Me neither," Tatsuki said. "After I did a few public performances, Tatsuki ended up writing some songs for me. I was a bit worried how people would accept the songs from someone who didn't have any name recognition- although I wasn't half as worried as Taiga was- but they liked the songs. Before long, Taiga became my official songwriter."

From what I heard, Dragon Girl really hit its stride after the first few singles, the ones that weren't Taiga's work. Of course, while my previous point still stood, Dragon Girl couldn't have gotten started without Tatsuki's talent.

"Ah," I said. "I recall people saying they liked Dragon Girl's songs, for not being as formulaic as most of the hits that the industry churns out, and I think so, too."

"I agree," Tatsuki said. "In fact, not only am I glad to give my sister a chance to play a role in my- no, _our_ \- stardom, but I'm happy to play songs that are worth playing."

I was completely with Tatsuki there. My mom helped me get into worthwhile projects, not just because it would be good for my career, but also because it was most fulfilling. Because of that, whenever she shared her opinion on one of my projects, I was sure to listen.

"It may be audacious for me to say this," Tatsuki said, "but generations later, when everyone on this planet has passed on, if people are hearing my songs, it may be through other people performing them. At that point, it'll hardly matter who they were written for- but who wrote them."

"I agree," I said. "Lots of people remember William Shakespeare, but not many people remember the actors who appeared in his plays when they first ran. I'm hoping that someday, centuries from now, your sister will be remembered as the Shakespeare of J-rock."

Tatsuki laughed out loud.

"Now that's a bit of an exaggeration," Tatsuki said, 'but personally, I'd really like to see that happen."

That made two of us. Maybe Tatsuki and I were in different fields, but it only felt natural to cheer on your classmates as they aimed for their goals.

* * *

**EVENT 5: Tatsuki refuses to leave her sister behind, in music or in the killing game.**

Tatsuki invited me to her cabin, which had a Dragon Girl poster on her side.

"You know, Azuki-san, it actually doesn't bother me that my sister is the unsung heroine behind Dragon Girl," Tatsuki said. "In fact, it's my reason to succeed."

"How so?" I said.

"If I make it big, then Taiga's songs willl become recognized and loved," Tatsuki said, "and someday, if not in either of our lifetimes, she'll be remembered as the person behind our music."

I nodded.

"I hope so, too," I said, "but as long as recordings of your music survive, people will also remember you. You two are two halves of the same whole, after all."

"Yes, we are," Tatsuki said. "I'm glad for this arrangement, since it gives us ways to excel in our given fields, and to do so together."

"True," I said. "Your sister doesn't seem like the kind who's jealous of your success, so I'm glad your success helps her, and vice versa."

Tatsuki smiled, but then seemed a bit more concerned. While getting through each class trial would ensure the sisters' survival, that was only as long as one of them wasn't the blackened.

"I know," Tatsuki said, "and because of that, I'm not leaving this ship without Taiga. The last thing I want is to sacrifice my sister for my own well-being, so you can forget about either of us trying to graduate."

"Good to hear that," I said. "I can't say that the prospects of us getting out of here together are all that good, but at the very least, you've got a reason to try."

"More than one, actually," Tatsuki said. "I don't want to sacrifice you or our other classmates, either. As unrealistic as it might sound, I hope all of us who are still left can get out of here."

I couldn't help but agree with that. This wasn't a question of the odds, but what we wanted. I could see why Tatsuki refused to abandon the one she loved most just to save herself, since I felt the same way, too.

"Me too," I said.

Tatsuki and I shook hands. I wondered if Monokuma would eventually come to regret putting us together with people that we cared about already, or could come to care about, since it gave us reasons to not screw the others over for our personal gain. Maybe overturning the killing game wouldn't be an easy task, but if we could think of each other's well being, we could take the first step toward that goal.

* * *

 **Tatsuki's Undergarments** : A set of panties with a musical score pattern. They match Taiga's.

 **Skill:** Shred Guitar. Increases acceleration speed in Train of Thought.

Below are the twins' profiles. Since they share a birthday and a height, I included them together. Taiga's Free Time Events will likely come out next.

**Tatsuki and Taiga Tachibana**

**Talent:** Ultimate Guitarist and Ultimate Songwriter

 **Height:** 166 cm (5'5")

 **Birthday:** June 6 (Gemini)

 **Likes:** Good music

 **Dislikes:** Equipment malfunctions (Tatsuki) Performing in public (Taiga)

 **Hobbies:** Rhythm games.


	12. Free Time Events: Taiga Tachibana

**Free Time Events: Taiga Tachibana**

**EVENT 1: Taiga and her sister have long been interested in music, so she's glad to perform in some role.**

I spent some time with Taiga, who impressed me by humming one of Tatsuki's big hits. I could recognize the melody, even if it wasn't played on a guitar.

"This might sound like a stupid question," I said, "but did you write that song yourself?"

"Yes, I did," Taiga said, "and no, it's not a stupid question. While I wrote most of Dragon Girl's songs, my sister's earliest songs were written by a third party, and she's done covers for other artists. She's a real performer who can excel with any song, almost like a model who can make practically any outfit work."

I shrugged. While Tatsuki's talent couldn't be denied, since she'd earned the Ultimate Guitarist title, neither could that of her sister and fellow musical Ultimate. Besides, from what I knew, the fashion designers got as much press as the models themselves did.

"You're probably right," I said, "but the songs you wrote became popular too, didn't they?"

"They did," Taiga said, "but if you look on the CD covers, my sister is the one being shown. Unlike our middle and high school uniforms, her stage outfits generally don't have collars, so you can see that she doesn't have a birthmark, and thus recognize her. My name's in small print on the back, as the songwriter."

When I thought about it, getting my name in the credits of a movie wasn't all that special in and of itself, since I shared the honor with lots of people, from my costars and the director to the guys who did the grunt work. Of course, there was a big difference between those who got top billing, and those whose names popped up after most of the audience had left the theater.

"Then again, I'm fine with that," Taiga said, "since if the credit for our success is like a pie, it tastes good enough that I don't mind that my piece is relatively small. Besides, my sister's nice enough to share hers with me."

"I'm sure she is," I said. "Not only is she your sister, but it's never a good idea to mistreat the person you're most relying on to succeed. I don't think Tatsuki's cruel or stupid enough to do that to you."

"Of course she isn't," Taiga said, almost offended that I'd even consider suggesting such a thing about her sister. "For all our lives, we've done practically everything together, so she said that there's no way she wouldn't include me in what is probably the most important thing she'll ever do."

While that was all well and good, I couldn't help but notice that if Dragon Girl was a vehicle, Taiga thought of herself as a passenger and Tatsuki as the driver, instead of both of them moving it forward, like two people rowing a boat. Humility was all well and good, but she sounded as though she was selling herself short.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Taiga's mother inspired the sisters.**

Taiga offered her critiques of some of the soundtracks for the movies I was in. She had a good understanding of how to make a soundtrack for a movie, TV show or game, and how it might differ from producing her sister's songs.

"Just wondering, Azuki-san," Taiga said, "but did my sister and I tell you about our mother?"

"You did," I said. "You said she was your Composition teacher in middle school, right?"

"That's right," Taiga said. "She's similar to Nagato-sensei in some ways; she dresses well, is good at her job, is highly professional, and treats her children like the rest of her students. One thing they don't have in common, though, is that unlike Mom, I don't think Nagato-sensei ever was in a band."

I made a mental note to go ask either of the Nagatos about this later. For now, though, I listened attentively as Taiga continued her story.

"My mom played guitar in a band with a few friends from school, including my elementary school music teacher," Taiga said. "They never made it big, but they had fun playing together until they graduated high school. Their lives took them in separate directions, but they're all still friends."

"Were they any good?" I said.

"For an amateur band, they were," Taiga said, "since the people who made it to their shows liked hearing them play. More to the point, though, they were serious about what they did. If any one of them made a habit of skipping practice, slacked off or couldn't keep up, she'd have to quit the band."

"Sounds fair enough," I said, "but did it ever come to that?"

Taiga shook her head, with a smile on her face. From what she'd told me, the band was probably nothing more than a memory by the time she and Tatsuki were born, but she seemed to know a lot about it, probably from hearing her mom tell stories of her youth.

"No," Taiga said. "Granted, the standards weren't as high as a professional band, but from what I heard, Mom and her bandmates were skilled musicians and good friends. They all trusted each other, and cared enough to give their all for the group. That was the most they asked of each other, and all of them delivered."

I nodded approvingly. I generally counted myself lucky if my costars were halfway tolerable, although I did end up making some good friends.

"As for me," Taiga said, "I hoped to have that same sort of strong, trusting partnership with my sister. My mom said her bandmates were like sisters to her, so I hope my sister values me as much."

"I'm sure she does," I said, "since you aren't just her sister, but a fellow Ultimate. I can't see her finding a songwriter she likes or trusts more."

Taiga nodded, but seemed to be trying to convince herself of it most of all. I had some idea of where she was coming from, since there were times when I'd wondered if my mom only saw me as a viable prospect because I was her daughter. Of course, my mom had told me that she wasn't sentimental enough to take me on if I wasn't any good at what I did, so maybe Tatsuki was the same in that regard.

* * *

**EVENT 3: Taiga believes her sister is better than her.**

I told Taiga that according to Nagato, Nagato-sensei hadn't been in a band before- just the vice-president of her student council and a member of the choir. She wasn't surprised.

"I'm curious, Azuki-san," Taiga said. "Do you have any siblings?"

I shook my head.

"Not at all, Tachibana," I said, "but Mai Kazehana, one of my costars on Summer's End did. She and her sister Shiho, the latter of whom's a year older, were really into acting when they were young, but only Mai made it big. Because of that, Shiho became jealous of Mai, and their relationship never really recovered. Mai does love Shiho, but she also knows that they can't go back to the way they were in the past."

Mai and I had hit it off well when I'd gracefully taken being passed over for the voice of Viseria, the princess who leads an army to reclaim her homeland. She'd told me that in the acting business, you should be grateful for what you have, rather than jealous of what other people have, and was glad that I didn't see that as yet another platitude from a lucky winner. Considering that Viseria went batshit insane later on, much to fans' displeasure, I joked that Mai got the short end of the stick.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Taiga said. "Your story makes me feel sorry for Kazehana-san, and glad that I have the sister that I do."

"How so?" I said. "I mean, clearly, Tatsuki's not a jealous bitch like Shiho is, but I'd like to hear more."

Taiga paused for a moment. She clearly had a story to tell, and from how hard she was thinking, it would probably be a long one.

"My sister and I practiced the guitar since we were little," Taiga said. "Both of us were praised for our skill, and while I thought our parents were just buttering me up, we eventually heard the same sort of praise from people who were apparently difficult to please. That gave me the idea that I actually had a talent for the guitar."

"Are you saying you don't?" I said.

Taiga sighed, then shook her head.

"My sister and I tried out for a talent show together back in middle school," Taiga said. "I'd always known my sister was better than me, but when the time came for us to try out, I couldn't even compare to her. I then realized that no matter how hard you work, there's some things that come down to talent."

"I don't know about that," I said. "Sure, some things come easier to some people than to others, but it's not easy to see how hard people work just by looking at them."

"You're probably right," Taiga said, "but I also think that there are a few factors that determine success. Obviously, talent and hard work are the big ones, but I also think that luck, passion and your ability to perform when it counts play a role. I guess I could say that I just didn't have the latter."

I thought about all the people who'd auditioned alongside me, and wondered how many were good actresses- maybe even better than me- who just happened to have a crappy day. I was sure I'd earned my success as an actress, but it was troubling to think how many had lost their chance simply due to bad luck. Perhaps in another lifetime, Taiga might have earned the honor of Ultimate Guitarist, but even so, she'd still managed to become an Ultimate in her own right, and that, more than anything, was what she needed to understand.

* * *

**EVENT 4: According to Taiga, she only got to be the songwriter because of Tatsuki's influence. I'm not so sure about that, though.**

Taiga talked about the inspiration behind some of Dragon Girl's songs. While Taiga had a good grasp of musical theory and put it to use when writing her songs, she also wrote the songs she wanted to write and that her sister would enjoy playing, not what she thought would top the sales charts.

"Did I ever tell you how I got to be the songwriter for Dragon Girl?" Taiga said.

"Because of your sister?" I said.

Taiga nodded hesitantly, as if to say "Partial credit, Azuki-san." It wasn't too hard to imagine her following in her mother's footsteps and becoming a teacher.

"Yes, but that's only part of it," Taiga said. "My sister felt really bad that I couldn't play alongside her, so she desperately tried to think of some way I could participate. She then came up with the idea of having me write a song for her to perform."

I recalled that while people's reviews for Tatsuki's guitar skills had always been glowing, reception for the first few songs had been more lukewarm. While there were a lot of die-hard fans who loved whatever Dragon Girl put out or didn't care about the music, others found them to be somewhat formulaic and by-the-numbers. More charitable critics contended that Tatsuki was finding her voice, while others dismissed her as just another pretty face with no staying power.

"Did your managers like it?" I said.

Taiga sighed.

"They... were skeptical," Taiga said. "My sister fought tooth and nail to convince them to let her play my song, and was told that she'd essentially be staking her reputation on it. She did manage to pull it off, though, because she's that good of a performer. After that, they were impressed enough that I became my sister's primary songwriter, but I wouldn't have had that chance if not for her arguing my case."

"What about Talent High School?" I said. "They judged you and Tatsuki on your respective talents, didn't they?"

"They did," Taiga said. "The board listened to my sister perform, while a retired musician and a music critic evaluated her skills as a performer. As for me, a music professor and a songwriter listened to the song and read the sheet music. My sister insisted that if she got accepted, she'd only come if they let me attend alongside her, but they told her that they'd be making separate decisions on us. If she got in, they weren't obligated to take me along, but if she didn't get in, I still had a chance. As you can imagine, we both succeeded individually, and got in together."

While everything Taiga said sounded about right, she didn't sound very convinced.

"Yeah, I know," I said, "but what's the problem?"

"To put it simply, the talent scout that found us was looking for musicians," Taiga said. "They would never have noticed me if not for my sister's fame. Not only did she start Dragon Girl, but she was the one our school was looking for."

"I'd call it a buy-one-get-one opportunity," I said. "Thinking from the perspective of a guy who's looking for talented teenagers, finding two sisters who teamed up to make a best-selling musical act is one hell of a story, especially when one of them failed to become a musician, but found something she's the best at, and became a crucial part of her sister's success. There's no Dragon without the Taiga, after all."

Taiga smiled. It would be one thing if I was speaking for myself, but I was echoing all of the fans who'd repeated that slogan time and again, as a battle cry in support of their favorite songwriter.

"When you put it that way, it seems simple," Taiga said. "There are many reasons that I forget it- that people notice my sister more than they do me, that she's the one performing and that she succeeded where I failed- but when I get down to it, what you said is the part that really matters."

"It does," I said, "and I'm sure your sister feels the same way."

Taiga nodded in agreement. As presumptuous as it sounded to say what I just had, I'd come to know Tatsuki well during my time with the sisters, so I knew she believed in Taiga. All I needed to do was remind Taiga of that, and everything else would take care of itself.

* * *

**EVENT 5: Taiga is determined to prove that she can be of use to her sister.**

Taiga invited me to her and Tatsuki's cabin. Her side had sheet music for Dragon Girl's songs posted on the walls. I wasn't too good at reading musical notes, but I could recognize the names of Dragon Girl's biggest hits.

"I had a talk with my sister," Taiga said, "and like you thought, she told me that she actually doesn't take me on out of pity. She even considers me to be more vital to _our_ success than she is in some ways, something that I'd never thought of before."

"Even though you've been close since the day you two were born?" I said.

"Yes," Taiga said. "Because my sister has always loved me, I thought that her praise was given to me, not something I earned. Because of that, as well as my inferiority complex, I started believing what the voices inside my heard were saying, instead of my own sister."

"Sounds like you made a mistake there," I said, "but luckily for you, it's never too late to fix it."

Taiga nodded hopefully. A few kind words wouldn't completely banish her doubts, but at the very least, she'd taken the first step toward attaining a healthier sense of self-confidence.

"That's true, Azuki-san," Taiga said, "and I have you to thank for that. You're one of the most straightforward and honest people I've known, so whenever you say something nice, I feel as though I've earned your praise."

"Glad to hear it, Tachibana," I said. "I suppose this means that you'll believe that I'm looking forward to hearing more from you after we get out of here. The latter's not something I think is all that feasible, but I _want_ it to happen."

"Me too," Taiga said. "I can't think of anyone here who deserves to be left behind to die. There has to be a way for us all to escape, so let's find it together."

We shook hands. While what Taiga was proposing seemed unrealistic, especially since anyone (Taiga included) could betray us to graduate, not just the traitor, I believed that she meant it. Wanting to leave without losing everyone else was a very personal and heartfelt wish, just like helping her sister become a rock star had been, so I'd do what I could to help Taiga make it come true.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Taiga's Undergarments** : A set of panties with a musical score pattern. They match Tatsuki's.

 **Skill:** Composer: Reduces the number of dummy panels for Closing Argument

If you're looking for Taiga's profile, it's shared with Tatsuki's.

You may notice a few discrepancies between Taiga's account and Tatsuki's. This is entirely intentional, and it's up to you to decide whether Taiga is underselling herself, or whether Taiga's love for her sister makes her less than objective.


	13. Free Time Events: Yuichi Asakura

**Free Time Events: Yuichi Asakura**

**EVENT 1: Asakura is bitter about sharing his title with Nagato, even if he's lucky to have it at all.**

I decided to spend some time with Asakura. I wasn't thrilled about the prospect, but Nagato-sensei had asked me to get along with him, so I'd at least make an effort.

"What do you want, Azuki?" Asakura said.

"To know why you're so hung up on being the Ultimate Tech Support," I said, "and more specifically, being the _only_ Ultimate Tech Support at our school."

Asakura snorted at what he apparently considered a stupid question, making it clear that he had no patience for them. As someone who tried to stay polite when fielding questions from reporters, some of which could be overly personal, I knew that sort of personality trait was the _absolute worst possible_ one for a tech support professional to have.

"Oh, I don't know," Asakura said. "Because I get to go to the second best high school in the nation, which, in turn, leads to a good college and a good job?"

"Yeah, but why 'Tech Support'?" I said. "I'm sure most people could think of an Ultimate title they'd rather have. Mine's high on a lot of people's wish lists, and I'm sure the same goes for Tatsuki, Sasaki and Kojima."

I often got fan mail written by people who looked up to and wanted to be like me. I appreciated the support, but also realized that a lot of people who wanted to be like me were jealous of me for having succeeded where they'd failed. Because of that, I was grateful for the support of fans like Nagato.

"Maybe," Asakura said, "but since _most people_ aren't Ultimates, _anything's_ a step up for them."

"True," I said, "so you shouldn't have too much of a problem with Nagato having the same title as you, right?"

Asakura shook his head.

"Don't get me wrong; I'm glad to be here," Asakura said, "or at least I was before Monokuma hijacked our ship. But an Ultimate title has to be a prize with meaning behind it. The more people who have it, the less it means. If everyone's picture gets a gold star from the teacher, then nobody's gold star means anything."

I shrugged.

"I kind of get what you're saying," I said, "but when it comes to little kids, it's best to focus on positive reinforcement at first, then tell them where they need to improve as they get older. Honestly, crudely drawn scribbles are the most you can expect of them at that age."

"Maybe you're right," Asakura said, "but I, for one, don't like the idea. I should get a prize because I'm the best, not because the people who are handing them out think that's the best I can do."

While Asakura was pretty arrogant, I could see an understandable desire to prove himself. He probably didn't have any talent for acting, not to mention his personality would make it only a matter of time before he pissed off the wrong person and lost his career, but maybe he had the drive to become an actress. If he did, I wouldn't mind sharing my title with him.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Asakura's willing to bet his title if he had a chance to be the only one with it. He still seems to think that Nagato doesn't deserve it.**

After thinking about what Asakura said, I decided to speak with him again. I wasn't thrilled about the prospect of spending time with him, but I had a burning question that only he could answer.

"I'd like to ask you something," I said, "namely, a hypothetical scenario relating to your title."

"All right," Asakura said, "so, out with it."

I cleared my throat and mentally went over how I wanted to phrase it.

"Let's say Talent High School, having heard of your conflict with Nagato, decides to resolve the whole thing with a coin toss," I said. "If it's heads, you win, and if it's tails, Nagato wins. The winner gets to stay at the school as the only Ultimate Tech Support, while the loser is given free admission to the Reserve Course. They won't hold the contest without the approval of both parties, but since Nagato agreed to it, it's up to you. If you say yes, the challenge will go forward, and the result will be final, but if you say no, you and Nagato will both remain Ultimate Tech Support. What's your decision?"

Asakura paused for a moment, then scoffed.

"Nagato would never say yes," Asakura said. "She's fine with having a title, as long as she gets to go here, isn't she?"

"She is," I said, "but I was proposing a hypothetical situation, and you still haven't answered my question. Would you take the challenge?"

Asakura paused, then nodded.

"I would," Asakura said. "If I win, I get what I want. If I lose, I'd be mad, but I could live with being a Reserve Course student. Even if it's just a consolation prize, it'd be one I got from a fair competition."

"Got it," I said. "And what if you ended up having to drop out entirely?"

Asakura shook his head. He was remarkably cavalier when it came to the prospect of being expelled, which would cause most people to shit their pants. Then again, now that our lives were in danger, being kicked out of school didn't seem nearly as scary as it once did.

"Again, I'd go for it," Asakura said. "After all, if anyone asks, I can say that I got kicked out of school just because of a coin toss."

"And by that same token, your victory would only be by pure chance," I said. "Doesn't that bother you?"

"No, because 'pure chance' is the only reason why Nagato has the same title I do," Asakura said. "Apparently, the people evaluating Nagato gave her the title even though I'd already been accepted to the school."

"Interesting..." I said. "How exactly do you know this?"

Asakura was taken aback for a moment, but quickly regained his composure.

"I have a source on the board," Asakura said, "and he'd offered me the position some time back, as long as I kept up the good work by the time I got into high school."

"Interesting," I said. "I was a famous actress since middle school, but I only got scouted in the first year of high school. How'd you impress them so much that they decided to bring you in even before you got to high school?"

"W-Well, people noticed my talent earlier," Asakura said. "That's all there is to it."

Asakura changed the subject, but I noticed something odd about his story. While getting into schools like Talent High School and Hope's Peak was half a matter of talent and half a matter of being noticed by the right people, Asakura seemed to empathize the latter. I had a couple theories why this was, but didn't know enough to conclusively say for certain. Considering that one of those pieces was what was going through the heads of the people in charge of admissions, this would probably remain a guess.

* * *

**EVENT 3: Asakura believes that people have to distinguish themselves in order to find work in any field, not just acting.**

I sought out Asakura once again to continue our discussion, only to find that he was looking for me.

"It's my turn to ask you a question this time, Azuki," Asakura said. "What'd you do if there was another Ultimate Actress around?"

I paused to think for a moment. While he was probably angling for a specific answer- namely, agreeing that I'd be jealous of Nagato if I were in his shoes- the question warranted serious consideration.

"I'd go to the school with her," I said, "and if anything, publicly extend my fellow title holder congratulations for the sake of good PR. After all, I'm not the only famous high school age actress in Japan."

"That's really nice of you," Asakura said.

"There are benefits to practicing good manners," I said. "After all, reputation matters in my line of work."

Asakura glared at me skeptically, probably because he'd noticed that my general behavior around my contemporaries ranged from casual to outright rude, and was closer to the latter in his case. That said, I was able to be polite to authority figures like my teachers and bosses, who commanded respect and had the ability to make my life miserable if I didn't show it to them. With that in mind, maybe Asakura could do the same, even if he'd never demonstrated that skill.

"And it doesn't in mine?" Asakura said. "When you apply for a job, you go up against dozens, maybe hundreds, of rival candidates. All of them are probably just as desparate as you, and some of them might have more experience. You've got to beat them somehow, and the Ultimate Tech Support title can be a real leg up."

Asakura had a point, but after a moment, I realized that he'd never been talking about tech support until the last comment.

"So in other words, your goal is a career in tech support," I said. "I didn't know you were so passionate about that sort of thing, given your usual attitude toward most people."

"I'm not," Asakura said. "My talent did get recognized, though, so I may as well make a career out of it."

Asakura cut the conversation off and walked away, leaving me with a lot to think about. It was quite fortuitous that my talent for acting was equal to my love for it, but if I didn't have what it took, I'd likely have to find a backup job of some sort. We couldn't always do what we wanted, but was Asakura really so cynical that he'd willingly do a job he hated, just because he was good at it?

* * *

**EVENT 4: Asakura's dad, a mediocre businessman, is part of the reason why Asakura doesn't want to be merely ordinary.**

I met up with Asakura again. This time, it was his turn to ask me a question, and the fact that he had one in mind was probably his only reason for speaking with me .

"I'd like to know something, Azuki," Asakura said. "What's it like to be a mediocre actor?"

I shrugged. His question was vague enough that I could fuck with him by giving an answer that only applied to a certain interpretation of the question, but I decided to actually put in the effort and make a decent attempt to reply.

"That depends on what standard you're using," I said. "If you're talking about those who are actually working, then the mediocre ones generally get supporting roles in lower budget films. Sometimes, they get a big break that gets their careers back on track, but most of the time, they're on a downward spiral, and within a few years, they stop being heard from altogether. If you're talking mediocre in comparison to everyone who even tried to audition... they don't have a prayer of making it."

"Then you have some idea how important it is to be the best," Asakura said. "My dad studied business in college, only to realize too late that he was only so-so at it. He has a job and makes enough to support my family, but he constantly gets passed over for promotions; even some of the younger guys get promoted over him. My uncle can't believe that his sister married a loser like my dad."

"He kinda seems like a prick," I said. "Your uncle, that is."

Asakura glared at me, something I honestly wasn't expecting. Most people would laugh and agree that a person like Asakura's uncle was an asshole, at least if they heard the story the way Asakura told it. 

"I know he and Dad don't get along," Asakura said, "but he's actually fairly good to me. Whenever he gets me something for my birthday, or sends me New Year's money, he smiles and says 'anything for my sister's kid.' He doesn't like my dad, but knows that my mom loves her husband, so they try to get along."

"Ah, I stand corrected," I said. "I was under the impression that you didn't like your uncle, but I guess I was mistaken."

Asakura simply nodded. Even though he'd witnessed the rare honor of me admitting to him that I was wrong, he didn't seem half as smug about it as I expected.

"Anyway," Asakura said, "I didn't want to go down the same route as my dad, so I decided to find some job that people thought I had talent at. Luckily for me, the people at Talent High School decided I was the Ultimate Tech Support, so here I am."

I noticed that once again, he said that people recognized his talent, not that he had talent, but I didn't think too much of that. After all, in order to get a job, you didn't just need the skills, you also had to be recognized for your skills. My career would have gone nowhere fast if the right people hadn't taken notice of my talent for acting, so I could see why he wanted to take advantage of his being recognized for his talent.

"Good for you," I said, "but what about Nagato? If she's similar to you in some ways, shouldn't you know how she feels?"

"Oh, I do," Asakura said. "She's a pitiful person who's so desperate to seem special that she'll take whatever the school gives her, not caring whether she deserves it any more than the other contenders."

I was tempted to say that this description could easily apply to Asakura, but thought better of it, and Asakura soon excused himself. He and Nagato would clearly never be friends, so there was little point in trying to bridge the gap between them. Since I liked Nagato and thought of her as a friend (or at least more of one than this asshole), there would always be a gap between us, too. Despite this, things had changed between us, even if our relationship hadn't improved.

* * *

**EVENT 5: I doubt Asakura and I will ever be friends, but I don't want him to die, either. He seems to feel the same way.**

I met up with Asakura one last time. While I wasn't looking forward to this conversation any more than the others, I figured I might as well wrap things up between us.

"So, Azuki," Asakura said, "do you have yet another loaded question for me, or are you going to lecture me again?"

"Neither, Asakura," I said, "since I've realized that this is getting us nowhere. I'm fairly certain that you'll always hate Nagato for 'stealing' your title, and as long as you do, I won't be able to stand you. It doesn't help that you're an egomaniac who only cares about being recognized for his talent."

Asakura chuckled.

"I thought so," Asakura said. "The feeling's mutual, after all. You were on Nagato's side from the beginning, and I think I see why- you've got more in common with her than with me."

"That's for sure," I said. "Then again, I do think I understand you a little better. I don't approve of you, but I do get why you feel the way you do, so I can't really hate you."

While "hate" was often used as a synonym for "strongly dislike," I personally drew a distinction between the two. The latter was an apt term for my feelings about Asakura, since dealing with him was unpleasant, and I saw nothing I could like or admire in him. As for the former, it would only apply if I loathed him enough to want to kill him, or at least that I wouldn't care if he died. Since my feelings toward him weren't nearly that strong, the word "hate" was strictly hyperbole.

"Gee, thanks," Asakura said. "So what exactly does that mean for our 'relationship'?"

"It's simple," I said. "If you kill someone, I'll do what I have to so the spotless can survive. If you get killed, I won't feel _too_ broken up, but I won't think you deserve it. After all, I want everyone who's still around to get out of here, even the ones I don't want to see again. I don't know if you can believe me, but that's how I honestly feel."

"Fair enough, Azuki," Asaakura said. "If nothing else, I know you don't pull your punches when it comes to me. I'll believe what you just said and trust you... for now."

I parted ways with Asakura, silently making a note to never talk with him again unless I needed something. If nothing else, I had made an effort to reach out to him and learn more about him, at which point I'd learned that he was an unlikable, egotistical jerk, so I had fulfilled my promise to Nagato-sensei. Now, the only thing left was to escape, so that we could go our separate ways and never have to see each other again.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Skill** : Fundraising. Doubles Monocoins received.

 **Yuichi's Undergarments** : A pair of briefs, produced by the same company that makes Nagato's underwear.

Asakura is not meant to be likable, to put it mildly, but this set of Free Time Events is meant to shed some light on why he acts the way he does.

The omake shows a scenario in which Nagato is the other Ultimate Actress, not the Ultimate Tech Support, as well as a friend and colleague of Azuki's.

**Yuichi Asakura**

**Talent:** Utimate Tech Support

 **Birthday:** October 24 (Scorpio)

 **Height:** 170 cm (5'8")

 **Likes:** Winning competitions

 **Dislikes:** Stupid questions

 **Hobby:** Arm wrestling

* * *

**Omake**

Let's imagine the following. Instead of being one of two recipients of the Ultimate Tech Support title, Chiyuri is the other recipient of the Ultimate Actress title. How would I react?

Shortly after being accepted into Talent High School, I made the arrangement to publicly sign the transfer document on a daytime talk show, with my mom and a representative from the school present, along with the hosts of the show. A lot of the more famous showbiz-related Ultimates, like Tatsuki, did something similar for the good press. Because it was such an important event, I ended up dressing up in a cardigan, blouse and skirt, and was on my best behavior.

In case you're wondering, I did actually go through this event in reality, not just in this hypothetical scenario, and it's probably like all the other celebrity appearances you've seen on television. So I'll cut to the chase and get to the question that actually mattered.

"If you don't mind my asking, Azuki-san," the female host said, "how does it feel to share your title with Nagato-san?"

While the woman's question was amicable enough, I could sense a trap within it. She clearly hoped to play up any hints of a rivalry between us, and the last thing I wanted was to give her what _she_ wanted.

"Sharing the spotlight is an important part of an actress' work," I said, "since no one performer can singlehandedly carry the story. Just as I am honored to have worked alongside many talented and passionate colleagues over the course of my career, I am pleased to be invited to Talent High School along with Nagato-san. I believe she deserves this opportunity no less than I do, and am glad that she has been recognized for her accomplishments."

The news host smiled, but I wasn't sure how genuine it was. A couple questions about my career later, the interview ended.

After the interview, Mom struck up a conversation with me while we were backstage.

"Excellent work out there, Akira," Mom said, "especially when the host asked you about Chiyuri-chan."

"Thanks, Mom," I said, "but I wasn't lying. I really am looking forward to going to school with her."

Mom nodded. She was aware that I chose my words carefully and spoke more politely than usual when dealing with the press, but that didn't mean I was necessarily lying.

"I know," Mom said. "While Chiyuri-chan is, technically speaking, one of your rivals, there's enough room for both of you at Talent High School, so I'm sure you'll get along. I hope she feels the same way."

I nodded. While we had to put on a good face for the cameras, our feelings were genuine, so I was sure Chiyuri felt the same way.


	14. Free Time Events: Seita Kirishima

**Free Time Events: Seita Kirishima**

**EVENT 1: Desire for knowledge is what motivates Kirishima. Ever since he asked a question that couldn't be answered, he set out to find the answers to other unsolved mysteries.**

Kirishima and I talked for a bit about science. Since my knowledge about genetics was that of a second-year in high school with above-average grades, Kirishima had to dumb down a lot of what he was talking about for my benefit.

"Sorry I'm having trouble keeping up, Kirishima," I said.

"It is no problem, Azuki-kun," Kirishma said. "Unlike many of our contemporaries, you show an interest in learning more. I, too, was ignorant once, when I was a small child. I only became an Ultimate because of my unparalleled desire for knowledge, not because I already knew more than anyone else."

That was only natural. While some lazy prodigies managed to coast through to get titles they might not even want, most Ultimates were truly passionate about their pursuits. If nothing else, a moderately gifted person who was giving 110 percent would beat a highly gifted one who was halfhearted any day.

"Speaking of which, I've been wondering," I said. "How did you first get interested in science?"

"Personal curiosity," Kirishima said. "When I was attending science class in elementary school, I asked my teacher a question, and was told that science did not yet know the answer. "

"What was that question?" I said.

Kirishima paused to think, but then shook his head.

"To be honest, I do not clearly remember," Kirishima said, "save for that it was about genetics. In any case, the question mattered less than the idea that many questions were not yet answerable... at least by those responsible for passing on their knowledge to the young."

"Well, that's science for you," I said. "You have to admit that there are many things you- and humanity as a whole- don't know just yet."

"Quite true," Kirishima said, "and as frustrating as unanswerable questions can be, I believe that we are in a far better place than we were in the past. Anything that was beyond their comprehension was dismissed as an act of God- or gods, as the case may be- and people clung to their woefully irrational theories about what they thought they understood."

"That sort of thinking's backwards," I said, "but I suppose the truth only seems obvious to us in hindsight. You can hardly fault our ancestors for trying to come up with their own explanations with the little information they had."

Kirishima shook his head disapprovingly. For someone who seemed relatively patient whenever there was something I didn't get, he took this attempt to play Devil's Advocate surprisingly badly.

"The search for knowledge is most important," Kirishima said, "since once you can understand something, you can master it. When we understood the forces that caused lightning and the electricity that comprises each bolt, we became able to harness that power. By learning more about the forces that cause earthquakes, we become better able to predict them, and thus to reduce the damage they cause. They say ignorance is bliss, but it is a rather dangerous sort of bliss."

"Fair enough," I said, "but why not become a teacher, then?"

"I may end up teaching classes if I become a professor at a university," Kirishima said, but I would prefer to focus on research. Passing on knowledge is an invaluable occupation, but knowledge can only be passed on after it is acquired in the first place."

It was easy to see that Kirishima seemed passionate about knowledge, if little else. But where did that passion take root, and would his drive be for the good of mankind, or the detriment? I'd probably find the answer by getting to know him.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Kirishima's interest lies in genetics. The root of his interest is what we pass down to our descendants, and he hopes to pass down the gift of knowledge.**

Kirishima told me a little about science. Apparently, while he mainly focused on genetics, his grades in other science-related subjects were on par with high schoolers who went on to become scientists.

"Last time you told me about your interest in science," I said. "But why choose genetics?"

"Apart from the fact that it was related to the question I asked, the answer is clear," Kirishima said. "Our genes often determine the course of our lives, and are passed on to whatever children we may have. By understanding our genes, we can learn more about what we inherited from our ancestors, and what we will give our descendants."

"Sounds important," I said. "What's an example of how learning this might help people?"

"In the past, marriages between blood relatives were lauded as a way of keeping the bloodlines 'pure'," Kirishima said. "Today, however, that 'purity' is seen for what it is- inbreeding that increases the likelihood of inherited disorders."

In other words, yet another irrational misconception that had dangerous consequences. It was an excellent choice for an example, and not just because it happened to be in Kirishima's field.

"Yeah, the nobles on Summer's End often married their cousins and even their siblings," I said, "just like Princess Viseria's ancestors did. Of course, the show also put forth the idea that any children born from a man of the ruling family were, without exception, blonde."

"So it would seem that they have some understanding of genetics," Kirishima said, "but not nearly enough. It is a bit like how some so-called medical doctors practiced bleeding to remove all the 'bad blood' from a patient, or used trepanation to let out evil spirits. Some of those treatments were more deadly to the patient than the disease."

"That makes me glad that we have actual doctors nowadays," I said. "Of course, I'm pretty sure future generations will look back on us as being ignorant savages."

"Perhaps they will," Kirishima said. "However accurate their judgment may be, we must continue to push forward and learn more. After all, our present social status is because of the doings of those in the past. We build on the accomplishments of those who made discoveries in the past, and suffer because of those who tried to impede scientific development."

I was tempted to joke that Kirishima might be better off as the Ultimate Historian, but thought better of it, since even if his work made history, that didn't mean he was the type who could write history. Of course, I did have to wonder- would he be content with being just another anonymous person who helped further human progress, or did he want people to remember his name?

* * *

**EVENT 3: For someone who believes that his research is his greatest contribution to humanity, Kirishima isn't terribly concerned how we use it.**

Kirishima and I discussed the mad scientist archetype in fiction. Kirishima mocked the idea of a mad scientist chugging down an untested serum and turning into a monster, saying that it would be more likely to fatally poison the imbiber. To him, that would be the worst possible outcome, since if the scientist died, they couldn't record the results of the experiment.

"I read one of your interviews, Kirishima," I said. "You didn't seem terribly bothered by the idea that gene editing could be used for unethical purposes, or that what you discovered could help enable that."

"Not at all," Kirishima said, "since it is up to us to decide how to use our knowledge. The knowledge of how to split the atom enabled America to drop atom bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, but it also gave us a revolutionary new way to provide electricity."

"Yeah, which also happens to be the most dangerous and controversial one," I said. "New inventions often further humanity's worst traits as much as they do our best ones."

Kirishima frowned. By now, I realized that disapproving of humanity's striving for scientific advances was a sore spot for him, but I didn't care. I had a point to make, and I'd be damned if I let the fear of offending him stop me.

"Perhaps, but you just described the problem," Kirishima said. "All advances are inherently double-edged swords, able to be used for good or for ill. Imagine, if you will, a prosthetic that allowed a soldier with amputated limb to return to the field of battle and kill more enemies. That would be a good thing for the soldier's army, but bad for their enemies."

I noticed that Kirishima never specified the soldier's nationality, whether in general or in relation to us. It could be someone fighting for our Self-Defense Force, or an enemy nation trying to invade us. Maybe he thought the two were interchangeable, or that it didn't matter.

"I guess that's true," I said. "So all in all, you can't say wholeheartedly that your research necessarily benefits _us_ , do you?"

"To be frank, no," Kirishima said. "While advances in technology give rise to many improvements in our quality of life, they also lead to new problems. Still, it is our duty as thinking beings to expand our knowledge, and the duty of scientists like me to make new discoveries."

"I see," I said, "but aren't there people who can help guide us how to use that knowledge?"

"Perhaps there are," Kirishima said, "but that is not a judgment I believe I can make."

Kirishima's attitude was surprisingly cavalier, considering it was his legacy we were talking about. It was enough to make me wonder whether he cared about how he would be remembered, or whether what others said or thought about him even mattered to him. Perhaps he'd never know the answer, but he could probably guess, and the only question was how he'd feel about his prediction.

* * *

**EVENT 4: Kirishima doesn't think much of those who don't contribute to the world, or who don't do anything worth remembering.**

Kirishima asked me a little about how the entertainment industry evolved over time. I told him that sort of question was probably better suited for a graduate student thesis or a professor's research project (and even then, they'd probably have to focus on a specific area), but he was glad to hear my take on it.

"I am curious, Azuki-kun," Kirishima said. "Do you suppose that people will watch your movies long after you are gone?"

I nervously chuckled at being asked such a morbid question.

"I hope so," I said, "but I obviously can't say for certain. After all, if I die here, then my movies will still be fairly new, and might even get a bump in sales from the news of my death."

"A fine answer," Kirishima said. "If nothing else, you have something you can call your legacy, which is more than some can say."

I could sense a certain amount of contempt- or perhaps pity- in Kirishima's voice as he talked about those who were doomed to be forgotten. In either case, he clearly felt he deserved better.

"Who do you have in mind?" I said.

"My grandfather," Kirishima said. "He spent most of his career as a salesman, who convinced people to buy products that other people produced. Eventually, he retired, whereupon his company hired a younger salesman, and the work proceeded without any disruptions. Years later, he died and was soon largely forgotten."

"But not by you, obviously," I said, "or by his wife, the child he raised, his friends or the other people he impacted with his life."

Kirishima faintly chuckled, as if to admit that he walked right into that, but then shook his head.

"Perhaps not," Kirishima said, "but his contributions to human history were negligible at best. Once everyone who remembers him passes on, he will fade into obscurity."

I felt a bit disappointed hearing that. Maybe it was a bit too idealistic to expect Kirishima to care about his family, but was he so willing to dismiss his grandfather for being merely ordinary and forgettable?

"So that's what this is all about?" I said. "Being remembered?"

"It is about doing something that will be worth remembering," Kirishima said, "something that later generations will build upon. How can I better do so than by adding to humanity's knowledge?"

I shrugged, not sure if his question was rhetorical or whether he hoped I could answer it. Since he was studying me closely, I decided to give it my best shot.

"I don't know," I said, "but it's never a good idea to discount what ordinary people can contribute to society. After all, while you make discoveries, other people are producing the food you eat, constructing places like your lab and home, patrolling the streets to discourage criminals froma attacking you, reporting your accomplishments and other news stories... I could go on all day."

"That will not be necessary, Azuki-kun," Kirishima said, "since I understand your point. I will say that you seem remarkably fond of what the hoi polloi can accomplish, though."

"Well, directors and movie stars aren't the only ones who make movies," I said. "In addition to the writers, the camera operators and other important professionals, there's also the various assistants to the high-level employees, the people who do the grunt work and all those who handle the logistics of the filming, among many others. There's a reason why it takes several minutes for the credits to display all the names of the people who worked on or otherwise helped in a movie."

Kirishima nodded, silently conceding my point. I don't think he could have disagreed with it without coming off as an arrogant jackass.

"In fact, it also goes for the rest of you," I said. "Most of your fields of expertise are ones that have little in common with mine, but each of them is something that one of you has mastered, and I never will. Of course, not all of them are necessarily good things to master, but I can respect Karita for becoming the Ultimate Con Artist. Just don't tell him I said it."

"Very well," Kirishima said. "Personally, I do not share your sentimentality, but I will concede that other people's thankless labors are of use to me."

I decided to accept Kirishima's condescending response as the closest he'd ever get to acknowledging the efforts of the rank and file. If nothing else, it forced me to acknowledge something I'd sensed for some time- that a desire to establish his own legacy was part of his motivation for getting into science. On the other hand, he'd seemed sincere about his desire to learn, if only to satisfy his own curiosity, so which was his "true" reason for getting into science? Perhaps I'd never know the answer.

* * *

**EVENT 5: I'm not sure if I'll ever fully understand Kirishima or see him as a friend, but talking to him has been an enlightening experience.**

I met up with Kirishima one last time. As naïve or sentimental as it was, I couldn't help but wonder- did he feel anything for me after all our conversations?

"At the risk of sounding morbid, Kirishima, I'd like to know something," I said. "Since you're all about how you'll be remembered, what do you suppose people will say about you after you're gone?"

Kirishima paused to consider the question for a moment. Either he'd never seriously thought about the question before, or _had_ thought about it, but hadn't come up with an answer to it.

"It is difficult to say how other people will think of me," Kirishima said, "but I am hopeful that they will acknowledge me for my efforts, just as Talent High School acknowledge me while I am alive. In the end, the meaning of our lives lies in what we achieve in them."

"Figures," I said. "So I guess my life doesn't mean jack shit compared to yours, does it?"

"That is not wholly accurate," Kirishima said. "You may not accomplish much that will help expand humanity's knowledge, but your work has left an impact on many people. Your life is worth remembering, and I am sure many people will do so for a long time."

I sighed, unsure of whether what he'd said was a compliment, although he sounded as though he'd intended for it to be taken as one.

"Well, thanks, I guess," I said. "If you die before me, then I'll be sure to tell everyone how you were a great scientist. As for you as a person... you know what they say if you can't say anything nice..."

Kirishima faintly smiled. Even that show of emotion on his face was a rare sight, but it was pleasant nevertheless.

"Thank you, Azuki-kun," Kirishima said. "That is perhaps the best thing you can do for me. Should you perish first, I will be certain to remember you."

I parted ways with Kirishima, knowing that even if he and I would never become friends, he wasn't someone I could easily forget. Knowing him, he wouldn't have it any other way, and so that's what I'd do for him, no matter what fate befell him in this killing game.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Skill:** Cutting Edge: Makes all panels in Closing Argument available two correct answers sooner. For example, a panel with a 3 on it will be available after one correct answer, while panels with 2 or a 1 on it will be available from the get-go.

 **Seita's Undergarments** : A clean and sterile set of undergarments, made from the same material as surgical gloves.

Kirishima rounds out the "Asshole Trio." His Free Time Events show that while he is devoted to uncovering knowledge, he also has a selfish desire to be remembered for his accomplishments.

**Seita Kirishima**

**Talent:** Ultimate Geneticist

 **Birthday:** September 5 (Virgo)

 **Height:** 170 cm (5'7")

 **Likes:** Learning new things

 **Dislikes:** Superstition

 **Hobby** : Reading


	15. Free Time Events: Miharu Mihama

**Free Time Events: Miharu Mihama**

**EVENT 1: Mihama hopes to use her legal expertise and help others as a defense attorney.**

Mihama and I talked for a little bit about her favorite movies. She had seen a few of my movies, but vehemently denied any interest in "children's" movies.

"So, Mihama," I said, "I know you're the Ultimate Legal Expert, but what sort of law-related career are you planning on getting into when you grow up?"

"A defense attorney," Mihama said, "because quite simply, it seems like the best way to use my expertise to the benefit of others."

"Good answer," I said, "but don't judges and prosecutors also work for others' benefit?"

Mihama nodded, but seemed a bit ambivalent.

"They do," Mihama said, "since criminals deserve to be convicted and punished for their crimes. Of course, while judges and prosecutors are necessary, fair verdicts and sentences cannot be achieved without a legal professional representing the defendant."

"That sounds like a valid assertion," I said, "but clearly, Monokuma doesn't see it that way."

"No, he does not," Mihama said. "The lack of official roles can be excused due to the informal nature of the proceedings and most of us being ignorant of courtroom rules and regulations. However, that does not justify handing down the death penalty for all offenses, regardless of circumstances, or carrying out the sentence immediately, much less executing us all if we convict the wrong person."

I had to wonder why Monokuma even bothered with the class trials, ad-hoc as they were. My best guess was that he wanted us to be active participants in uncovering the awful truth behind the murders and sentencing the blackened to death to save our own skins. Sure, Monokuma set the stakes so that we had no other choice, but in the end, we were the ones who made that choice.

"In any case," Mihama said, "people accused of crimes should have a fair trial in which they are considered innocent until proven guilty, legal representation to help them navigate the process, and a fair verdict and sentence. The fact that the class trial system is so perverse and unjust should be a reminder of how necessary a civilized court system is."

"True," I said. "Our legal system may not be perfect, but at least it's intended to uphold law and order, rather than provide Monokuma with sick entertainment. Seeing how important it is, it's better left in the hands of smarter people than us- well, smarter than everyone besides you."

Mihama giggled at my hasty amendment to my comment. In all seriousness, though, I'd meant what I said. None of us were ready for this sort of situation, and Mihama was the only one who was even remotely equipped to handle the legal aspect, even if she was years away from becoming a full-fledged defense attorney. All we could hope for was to find a way out, and then hand the traitor responsible over to the authorities.

* * *

**EVENT 2** **: Mihama knows that the law is complex, but believes it has to be that way.**

Mihama quizzed me on Monokuma's rules, saying a rule number and asking me to tell her the rule. I got most of them right, and the only mistakes I made were mixing up which rules corresponded with which numbers. Mihama was pleased that at the very least, I knew all the rules.

"I would like to hear your honest opinion, Azuki-san," Mihama said. "Do you find the law to be intimidatingly complex?"

"It can be," I said. "Some things are pretty obvious, but other things are pretty damn complicated. For example, you have to pay your taxes, but how do you tax a corporation that posted losses for the last fiscal year?"

Mihama seemed a bit uncomfortable.

"That is a good question," Mihama said, "as well as a good example of a case in which things are not easily cut and dried. Personally, I think the laws is as complicated as it needs to be."

"What do you mean?" I said.

Mihama paused to think for a moment. The answer was probably obvious to her, but even if it was, finding a way to explain it to someone like me was another story.

"To use an analogy, let us imagine that you are trying to use a tool to solve arithmetic problems," Mihama said. "For simple arithmetic, an abacus, a simple device used since ancient times, will suffice. For more advanced equations- multiplication, division, exponents and square roots- you will need a calculator, a modern piece of machinery that is more sophisticated, but also more difficult to use. For more advanced computations, a graphing calculator or even a specialized computer program will be necessary."

"Ah, true," I said. "Of course, advanced machines can also be user-friendly, but even so, they're far more complex in design than older technology."

"Essentially, the law is the same way," Mihama said. "Because it must account for every practically conceivable misdeed humans can commit, it contains countless rules and regulations, and is always being updated, like patches for various programs. In the case of the tax codes, as people come up with new ways to make money, and new ways to try to avoid paying their dues, the law must adapt accordingly. To put it simply, if it is complicated, it is because it has to be."

When I thought about it, it seemed almost quaint that Monokuma could run a killing game with only a fraction of the rules in your average student handbook. Then again, that was probably because Monokuma didn't care about the sort of petty misconduct, such as being late or not wearing your uniform properly, that wouldn't necessarily lead to a murder.

"Got it," I said. "I suppose the law only exists because we can't be trusted to do the right thing without it. As we get more creative about hurting others, it has to adjust to keep up and take those who break it to task"

"Perhaps," Mihama said, "but I think of it more positively. The law is a manual on how to live one's life as a productive member of society, or at least it should be."

There was a hint of doubt in Mihama's voice, but I wasn't surprised.

"Are you saying it isn't?" I said.

"There are some ways it falls short," Mihama said. "For example, it may be possible to be a selfish individual who indirectly causes harm to others while not breaking any laws, while others have been punished for following their conscience and doing what they believe to be right. Fortunately for us, the law can change, but unfortunately, that change is not always for the better. Whichever way it ends up going is ultimately up to us."

Mihama's worries about the law changing were reasonable enough, even if they made her sound more like an old woman than a young girl. If nothing else, she appreciated the significance of her work, and was doing it for the right reasons, so I was fairly sure that whatever happened, the impact she'd have would be positive.

* * *

**EVENT 3: Mihama realizes the law isn't perfect, but believes in the principle of fair rules.**

Mihama and I talked about the various ways the heroes of various films would get in trouble with the law, such as breaking out of jail to clear their names, or putting on a mask to fight crime. Of course, when I asked her for solutions that were both legal and practical, she ended up drawing a blank.

"Despite everything that I said, I do actually feel sympathy for the protagonists in question," Mihama said. "There are times when the 'right' thing to do is not necessarily one that the law would allow."

"That's right," I said. "What would you do about it, in that case?"

"I would tirelessly work to change the law," Mihama said. "Failing that, if I had to break the law to do whatever was right, then I would do so. I would surrender peacefully if arrested, plead guilty and accept whatever sentence was handed down."

"Really?" I said. "Wouldn't you want to evade a punishment you don't think you deserve?"

Mihama shook her head.

"Truthfully, a part of me would," Mihama said, "but I would need to accept those consequences, unfair though they may be, to convince the authorities that people like me would choose not to follow the law, and thus, that they cannot enforce it."

"When you put it that way, it makes sense," I said. "I wouldn't want to end up behind bars, since that'd be really bad for my career, but if that sort of sacrifice is necessary for things to change for the better, then that's what I'd do."

"I am glad to hear that, Azuki-san," Mihama said, "but please do not be too eager to make the sacrifice, lest those close to you come to suffer as a result."

"Gotcha," I said. "In my case, my mom's my only family, but _because_ of that, she wouldn't want to see her only daughter end up in prison or worse."

Mihama simply nodded, and I could see what seemed like dawning comprehension in her eyes. Something I'd said about my family situation had resonated with her, and while I could hazard a guess as to what, I decided to wait for her to tell me.

* * *

**EVENT 4: Mihama's father made some bad decisions and ended up locked up. That explains why she wants to be a lawyer, and why she's so independent for a girl her age.**

I met up with Mihama, who seemed oddly distracted this time. Something was on her mind, and it probably wasn't directly related to the killing game.

"I have a confession, Azuki-san," Mihama said. "I do not believe I have told you the entire truth behind the origin of my interest in law."

"What truth are you talking about?" I said.

"You see, there is a more personal element to it," Mihama said, "namely, relating to my father."

"Ah," I said. "Is he a lawyer?"

Mihama shook her head sadly.

"Until I was six, my father worked at a large company as an accountant," Mihama said. "I do not know all the details, but apparently, one of his superiors convinced him to use his skills to commit tax fraud, claiming that he would be doing nothing wrong. Of course, when I say 'convince', it was an order, and he probably would have lost his job if he had refused."

I considered saying that if it had come to that, he probably could have sued for being wrongly dismissed, or at least that it would be better to be fired than break the law, but decided not to say it. It was clear that Mihama's dad's story had already been written, and there wasn't any point in asking what he should have done differently.

"So what did your dad do?" I said.

"Father went along with it," Mihama said, "and when he was caught, he was treated as though he had masterminded the entire scheme. His lawyer was convinced that he couldn't win, and so persuaded him to take a plea bargain for a reduced sentence. In the end, though, he still got ten years in prison."

In other words, five down, five to go. That wasn't much comfort to Mihama, whose father had been locked up for nearly half of her short life thus far, so I decided not to say it.

"As such, there are a few reasons why law interests me," Mihama said. "First, if Father had known what he was doing was wrong, he would never have made that mistake. Second, if he had been wrongly accused, then having a good lawyer could have helped him avoid punishment, or even overturn his sentence."

"So is that why you're in such a hurry to get through school?" I said.

Mihama shook her head.

"No," Mihama said, "since Father will likely be released from prison by the time I am a full-fledged lawyer. Instead, I sped through school because I had no time to waste as a child who depends on her mother. Perhaps I am not yet at the point I can support myself, but at the very least, I want to show her that I am independent enough for her to work extra hours if she must, and not worry about me."

Since my mom had raised me alone for about a decade, since I was around Mihama's age, I could respect Mihama's desire for independence. While I wasn't nearly good enough to replicate her feat, I had to admit that being able to become independent sooner was a tempting prospect.

"That's great," I said, "as long as you don't overdo it. I'm not just saying it because you're a kid- if a really smart kid- but because your mom wouldn't want you to grow up _too_ fast, either. After all, she's looking out for you. I'm in a similar situation, so I'd know."

A part of me expected Mihama to get offended, but she simply nodded. Either she was smart enough to have come to this realization on her own, or other people had given her the same advice.

"What you say is true, Azuki-san," Mihama said. "In the end, I realize that all of us who are lucky enough to have parents, myself included, are dependent on our parents' kindness and support in our youth. Mother has always been there for me, especially after Father was imprisoned, and while Father made a mistake, he is no less an indispensable part of my life. I can never fully repay the debt I owe my parents, but by striving to become a responsible adult, I can express my gratitude to them."

"Glad to hear it," I said. "I'm sure you'll become an amazing lawyer someday."

Mihama smiled warmly. If her life was like mine, I could tell that it hadn't always been easy, but at the very least she had something to work toward. Her goal of becoming a lawyer was an outlet for her energy and a source of hope, much like my acting career was, so while there would be difficult times ahead, she had reasons to keep going. Because of that, the best thing I could do for her was to root for her.

* * *

**EVENT 5: Someday, Mihama hopes everyone will know the law this well.**

Mihama invited me to her cabin. On her side, there was a potted plant, as well as a movie poster I didn't recognize. She once again shared some of her knowledge with me, telling me about contracts and other business-related stuff my mom usually took care of.

"You're certainly teaching me a lot, Mihama," I said, somewhat jokingly. "I might even catch up with you one day."

"As strange as it may sound, Azuki-san, I hope you do," Mihama said. "In fact, I hope _everyone_ becomes as knowledgeable as I am."

"Why's that?" I said.

"Knowing the law is for one's own good," Mihama said, "so it makes no sense for a small group of professionals to be the only ones who understand it. Furthermore, if one knows the law, one can become aware of the injustices inside it, and start to change it."

"Ah," I said. "Of course, if the day comes when everyone knows the law, you won't be special, will you?"

While it was unrealistic to expect everyone to know everything about their country's laws, Mihama took the prospect seriously enough to answer my question.

"No, but I am certain I will find some other outlet for my talents," Mihama said, "such as teaching the next generation. After all, the process of making the world we live in better is never done."

"So your work will never be done, then," I said. "Of course, I'm sure that even if you'll never completely accomplish your goal, you'll do a damn good job, so I hope you'll make it out of here."

"Thank you very much, Azuki-san," Mihama said. "I hope so, too."

We shook hands and sealed our promise to escape together. Our society had its share of problems, but it was a hell of a lot more civilized than the killing game, and we had the potential to make it a better place to live. That didn't necessarily mean we would, but with people like Mihama around, we could at least try to make a difference.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Skill:** Evidence Law. Shows the proper Truth Bullet to use after some time.

 **Miharu's Undergarments:** A pair of panties with a cartoon character on them. When asked, Miharu sheepishly says that people aren't supposed to look at her panties in the first place.

As philosophical as this Free Time Event chain seems, I hope to eventually delve into Mihama's family situation.

There's only one more member of Class 32 left who's due for Free Time Events- the teacher.

**Miharu Mihama**

**Talent:** Ultimate Legal Expert

 **Height:** 122 cm (4')

 **Birthday:** January 1 (Capricorn)

 **Likes:** Coffee, but only with cream and sugar.

 **Dislikes:** Being treated like a kid.

 **Hobby:** Watching movies.


	16. Free Time Events: Yukari Nagato

**Free Time Events: Yukari Nagato**

**EVENT 1: There are certain things Nagato-sensei won't share with others. Despite that, I hope to learn as much as I can about her.**

I decided to spend some time with Nagato-sensei. She was surprisingly willing to see me, and not just because she had more free time than she knew what to do with.

"Thank you for visiting me, Azuki-san," Nagato-sensei said. "Not many students are willing to see their teachers outside of class."

I chuckled after hearing the levity in Nagato-sensei's voice, but while I was tempted to make a joke about students who dated their teachers, I thought better of it.

"You're welcome, Nagato-sensei," I said. "I wanted to get to know you better."

Nagato-sensei paused for a moment to think. My question was maybe a bit too open-ended, so she'd probably have to decide where to begin before she could even think about wording her answer.

"My life story isn't especially interesting," Nagato-sensei said. "I graduated from St. Mary's Catholic High School, and enrolled in a nearby college. While there, I met and fell in love with one of my classmates, and had a daughter- Chiyuri. I graduated and got a job at Talent High School, so here I am today."

"I guess that's the basic story," I said, "but it does leave a lot of details out, and most of what it does include is what I already know."

"Yes, you're right," Nagato-sensei said. "As an actress, I'm sure that you've been asked more than a few questions you'd rather not answer, so I hope you'll understand where I'm coming from."

I nodded, since topics about my family came to mind. Whenever reporters asked about my mom working as my manager, I gave a standard (if honest) answer about how much I appreciated her help, but my mom and I agreed that I would never answer any questions about my dad. Luckily, for us, the news media didn't ask about him.

"I certainly do, Sensei," I said. "My classmates aren't obligated to answer any of those questions, either. The only difference is that when they refuse outright, they're not always this polite about it."

Now that I thought about it, while most of the other students (or at least those I was on decent terms with), were willing to answer my questions, that didn't mean that they couldn't omit details here and there.

"True," Nagato-sensei said. "We all have our secrets, or at least things we're not willing to talk about, so I'm sure the others would appreciate if you don't pry into such matters."

"I don't," I said. "They're free to share whatever they want- or not to share it, and the same goes for you, too."

"Thank you, Azuki-san," Nagato-sensei said. "Please feel free to talk with me whenever you want to, and I'm available."

Shortly afterward, I left Nagato-sensei, who asked me to send her regards to her daughter. As long as we were teacher and student, there would be certain things Nagato-sensei wouldn't want to share with me, and a certain distance between us that would never truly close, but that didn't mean we couldn't come to understand each other.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Nagato-sensei is passionate about sharing her knowledge.**

Nagato-sensei asked me about how I was doing in school. She was pleased to learn that I got good grades in all my subjects, but offered to help me if there was anything that I didn't understand.

"I"m curious about something, Sensei," I said. "Why did you decide to become a teacher?"

Nagato-sensei paused and sighed. She must have heard so many teachers talk about the joy of teaching that it ended up sounding like a cliché, even when it was the truth.

"I'm not entirely sure how to give an honest and believable answer to that question," Nagato-sensei said, "but while I had long considered becoming a teacher, the man I loved truly inspired me."

"What kind of person was he?" I said.

"He was exceptionally talented in his field," Nagato-sensei said, "since he'd earned the Ultimate Tutor title from Talent High School, but more than anything, he was passionate about helping others. When he was studying for high school entrance exams, he helped tutor other students who were having trouble, despite knowing that they would probably end up being his rivals for the schools he applied for."

"I get that," I said, "but wouldn't that mean that he and the schoolmates he helped- who are probably his friends or at least acquaintances- would be more likely to get in than the students who didn't get that help?"

"Good point, Azuki-san," Nagato-sensei said. "I suppose that as an actress, you would know a thing or two about competition."

"Yes, ma'am," I said. "In cases like that, you either do one of two things- look out for number one, or hope that your friends get through, even if you don't win yourself. I'm glad to hear that your husband was at least selfless."

Nagato-sensei gave me an odd look. I wasn't sure what she found objectionable, at least until she replied.

"Well, he thought of it differently," Nagato-sensei said, "believing that helping other people learn the skills they need is a good thing, even if they do end up competing for admittance to schools, jobs, promotions or other such things. He was never fond of the idea of competing for admission to schools, even if he understood that schools like Hope's Peak Academy or Talent High School couldn't take everyone. To him, education is like the food we eat- a valuable commodity that should be freely available to everyone."

I nodded in agreement.

"His beliefs resonated with me," Nagato-sensei said, "and I began to think of a teacher's role differently. I then sought out to become one of those who shared their knowledge for the benefit of the younger generation."

"Good for you, Sensei," I said, "but why Talent High School, of all places? It's not exactly inclusive, and I'm sure you could find a job at a larger school."

Nagato-sensei paused for a moment, making me wonder if I'd crossed a line by asking that question, but then she answered.

"I chose Talent High School because while the students may have a certain talent, that does not mean they are necessarily fully educated in all other areas," Nagato-sensei said. "For example, Kirishima-san is a brilliant scientist, but that does not necessarily mean that his skills in the humanities or his ability to be a good citizen are necessarily up to par with his less talented peers, let alone his talent. The school administration may not see it the same way, but I believe that the talented youth both need and deserve a good education, just like everyone else."

I realized that Nagato-sensei's passion for teaching was completely genuine, regardless of where it came from. Even after everything that happened, I felt lucky to have Nagato-sensei as my teacher.

* * *

**EVENT 3: Nagato-sensei believes that teachers deserve their students' respect. She responds in kind, but keeps her students at a distance.**

Nagato-sensei asked me a bit about Summer's End, particularly the lives the residents of the world of Northland lived. I didn't mince words when I pointed out that the commoners had a pretty shitty standard of living in there, and the same went for even the nobility. Even Japan's working class was better off than the vast majority of Northlanders. Nagato-sensei also was interested in what sort of social stigma the bastard children of royalty and nobility faced, but changed the subject before I could ask more.

"I'd like to hear your opinion, Azuki-san," Nagato-sensei said. "What do you think of the idea of social classes?"

I paused to think for a moment.

"Well, it's a bit complicated," I said. "On the one hand, I don't think we should be divided into peasants and nobles, with the rest of us having to bow to Himemiya and call her 'Lady Himeno' or whatnot. In fact, I don't think even Himemiya wants that."

"Oh, I know she doesn't," Nagato-sensei said. "She asked me to treat her and Tsukimura-san like any other member of the class, and I gladly agreed to it."

Having gotten to know Himemiya and Tsukimura, I was pleased to hear that. This wouldn't necessarily smooth out all the awkwardness in their relationship overnight, but having an environment in which they were treated as equals helped put them one step closer to actually being so.

"On the other hand, we're not entirely equal," I said. "You are an authority figure and we're your students, so I guess it's only fair for us to act accordingly."

"Good answer," Nagato-sensei said. "I've noticed you're more polite toward me than you are toward your peers."

"Yes, ma'am," I said. "While I'm fairly casual, even rude, with most people, I make a point to treat you and other authority figures with more respect. I hope you don't mind."

Nagato-sensei smiled and shook her head.

"On the contrary, Azuki-san," Nagato-sensei said. "I'm actually pleased that you go the extra mile for me. As a teacher, I believe teachers and other authority figures can only do their jobs if their students recognize their authority are willing to do as they're told."

"And what about the authority figures themselves?" I said.

"They have their jobs to do," Nagato-sensei said, "and must make their decisions impartially, without letting their feelings get in the way. When a teacher must give students failing grades, an employer must fire an employee, or a commanding officer must order soldiers to their deaths, they cannot play favorites or give preferential treatment."

I wondered how Nagato-sensei would treat Tsukimura if she served the Nagato family, as opposed to the Himemiya family. My best guess was that Nagato-sensei would be a good boss, but at the same time, would never let Tsukimura forget who was in charge. It wasn't as egalitarian as Himemiya would like, but it was kind in its own way, a bit like how some of the better producers and directors I've worked for treated me.

"You have a point," I said. "That does explain why you expect your daughter to treat you like any other teacher, and you treat her like any other student."

"Exactly," Nagato-sensei said. "I suppose that can come across as a bit cold."

I shook my head.

"Well, I used to think so," I said, "since it seemed weird that you'd refuse to let Nagato call you 'Mom' just to save face. Now, however, I see it differently. You're simply doing what you have to so that you can teach your entire class well, and simply asking your daughter to do her part. I'd probably do things differently if I had a daughter as a student, but I can appreciate what you're trying to do."

"Thank you, Azuki-san," Nagato-sensei said. "I'm glad you're so understanding."

I smiled faintly, and said, "You're welcome, ma'am."

"In fact," Nagato-sensei said, "a part of why I act the way I do is because it's easier to start off strict when you're establishing standards, and loosen up over time. In Chiyuri's case, I'd be willing to let her call me 'Mom' at school if she proves she can show me respect, follow orders and uphold her responsibilities."

"That's good," I said. "But what about your other students?"

"As I said, I'd 'loosen up' around them over time," Nagato-sensei said, "but I don't think I'd ever call them my friends, much less anything more than that. In the end, I am still their teacher, after all."

"Yes, you are," I said, "since even if Monokuma took away all your power, he didn't take away your desire to guide us. I still see you as our teacher now, and that's how I'll remember you once we part ways."

Nagato-sensei nodded, but didn't seem completely happy about hearing that, even though I'd meant it as high praise. Perhaps even she had her doubts, and I hoped that if she did, she'd share them with me.

* * *

**EVENT 4: While Nagato-sensei has a strong sense of duty, she sometimes feels a bit isolated.**

Nagato-sensei decided to quiz me on everyone's first names. I got most of them right, except for Asakura, Karita, Kirishima and Nagato-sensei herself.

"So, how did I do, Sensei?" I said.

"Fairly well, Azuki-san," Nagato-sensei said, "although a few people got perfect scores- Higurashi-san, Himemiya-san and Sasaki-san."

Each of those three made sense. Higurashi was our class's leader, so he'd have to know us well. Himemiya-san grew up in a large family with many servants, so she'd probably become good at remembering names. Sasaki-san not only called us by our first names if we'd let her, but also worked with several assistants, and had to know their names, too.

"I'm not too surprised," I said, "but what about Mihama? Wouldn't our class's resident child prodigy ace the test?"

"Unfortunately, no," Nagato-sensei said. "Since Mihama-san routinely skips ahead, it is difficult for her to get to know her peers, let alone get close enough to use first names. She got most of the questions correct due to spending much time with Sasaki-san, but missed a few- I believe all the boys besides Higurashi-san and Kurogane-san."

"What about you, Sensei?" I said. "Do you have many friends outside of work?"

Nagato-sensei sighed and shook her head.

"Unfortunately, no," Nagato-sensei said. "My relationships with my colleagues are strictly professional, and we seldom see each other outside work. I have some friends, even though a few have... cut ties with me, but since they have jobs and families, I do not often hear from them. I sometimes go weeks without being called 'Yukari.' I sometimes wonder if I should put up a whiteboard with the 'Days Since Someone Last Called Me By My First name' in the kitchen."

"If you do, then you can erase it and start over from zero, _Yukari,"_ I said.

Nagato-sensei laughed uproariously.

"Ah, that's a good one, Azuki-san," Nagato-sensei said. "I'll forgive you for using my name this time."

"Thank you, ma'am," I said.

Nagato-sensei chuckled, but then turned serious.

"In all seriousness, though," Nagato-sensei said, "this sort of social interaction is something I've missed ever since becoming a teacher. The students who respect me are generally too polite and serious to joke around me like that, while those who do not respect me don't care for me enough to be pleasant with me. There aren't many people who I can talk to as an equal."

"I see," I said. "Are you rethinking your approach?"

Nagato-sensei shook her head decisively. In hindsight, that seemed like a stupid question, but I wanted to know _why_ Nagato-sensei would choose the answer I knew she would.

"No," Nagato-sensei said, "since I believe that it is necessary for me to do my job. That isn't to say that there aren't days when I have doubts or feel lonely, though."

"Well, you're only human, Sensei," I said. "Rather than hide away the part of you that doesn't conform to what you think a teacher should be, you should find someone you trust not to judge with that side. I'm sure Chiyuri is one such person, and I can be, too, if you'll let me."

"Thank you, Azuki-san," Nagato-sensei said. "A part of me worries about what you'll think of me if you learn everything there is to know about me, but I'll trust you as much as I can."

I nodded. People didn't change overnight, but in my own way, I noticed that what I said and did had an impact on others, so I tried to make it a good one. Ever since coming into Nagato-sensei's class, I'd become somewhat more conscious of that idea, so I guess I had her to thank for that.

* * *

**EVENT 5: Nagato-sensei and I won't be friends. That's fine, since she's one of the best teachers I've had.**

I met up with Nagato-sensei one last time. She jokingly offered to invite me into her cell, even though the door was locked and her accommodations weren't exactly comfortable.

"I must apologize, Azuki-san," Nagato-sensei said. "I've imposed on you a great deal."

"Not at all, Nagato-sensei," I said. "That would only be true if I didn't want to spend time with you, but I'm here because I want to be."

Nagato-sensei smiled.

"I appreciate that," Nagato-sensei said. "What I said earlier- that you and I will never be friends as long as we are teacher and student- still applies, but I am grateful for your help. To be honest, I think of all of my students as being like my children- not just Chiyuri- and you are no exception."

"I'm glad to hear that," I said. "Considering what sort of mom you are, it means a lot to me that you'd think of me as like a daughter. I wouldn't trade my mom for you, though."

Nagato-sensei chuckled softly, but then turned serious- or rather, more so than usual.

"Because of that," Nagato-sensei said, "I also don't want to lose any of my 'children'- Chiyuri least of all. As someone who cares for all of you, I hope you will do the same for each other, no matter what your differences may be, or what some of you may end up doing to others."

I paused for a moment, then nodded. It was too important of an issue to agree flippantly, but in my heart, I shared Nagato-sensei's desire for all of us to stay safe, even those I didn't like.

"To be honest, I can't speak for all of us," I said, "but you can count on me, Nagato-sensei."

"Excellent," Nagato-sensei said. "I'm glad to have a student like you, Azuki-san."

As Nagato-sensei and I bowed to each other, sealing our promise, I realized that Monokuma was probably most afraid of Nagato-sensei. Perhaps this killing game would claim more lives, but I swore to end it someday, and make him regret not killing her when he had the chance.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Skill** : Quick Study. Doubles experience point gain.

 **Yukari's Undergarments:** A pair of modest panties.

If you're looking for Yukari's profile, you can find it under Chiyuri's Free Time Events

This is the last of Azuki's Free Time Events, as well as a late addition. I wasn't sure whether to include it, but I decided to, since it helps flesh out Nagato-sensei's character.

While Azuki's Free Time events are concluded, there will be other Side Stories here, so stay tuned.

Here's a list of the characters' namesakes, some of which you may have seen in other Free Time Events.

 **Yuichi Asakura:** His last name was inspired by Ryoko Asakura, and plays into his rivalry with Nagato.

 **Akira Azuki:** Her first name was chosen for being a unisex name, while her last name was named for Miho Azuki, an aspiring voice actress in Bakuman.

 **Himeno Himemiya:** Her first name comes from Himeno Kimigara of A Centaur's Daily Life, while her last name comes from Chikane Himemiya of Kannazuki no Miko. Both of them are accomplished archers.

 **Satoshi Karita;** His last name comes from Junjii Karita, the fake Zearth pilot (long story) in Bokurano. Karita was nicknamed "Katari," which means "to deceive or cheat," as a play on his name.

 **Miharu Mihama:** Her last name comes from Chiyo Mihama from Azumanga Daioh.

 **Yukari Nagato:** Her first name comes from Yukari-sensei of Azumanga Daioh.

 **Sayuri Sasaki:** Her last name comes from the editor in chief of Bakuman.

 **Kanae Tsukimura:** Her first name comes from Kanae Katagiri, a servant of the Ishida family in Bleach. Her last name comes from a servant of the Ayanokouji family in One Year, my Persona 4 fanfic.


	17. The Talent Show: Stranger Than Fiction

**The Talent Show: Stranger Than Fiction**

_SPOILER ALERT: Danganronpa V3's ending._

_Disclaimer: The views expressed by "Where Talent Goes" characters are their own, and do not represent those of the author._

_Miura's POV_

I sat in the recording studio along with Akira Azuki, my cohost and senpai from Talent High School. Azuki-senpai and I hadn't spoken much in our time same school, so I had to admit that working alongside her, as opposed to my classmates, was a bit of an adjustment. The two of us wore our Talent High School uniforms- a light gray blazer and skirt, a white button-down shirt and a red necktie.

"Welcome back to The Talent Show," I said. "Please welcome Azuki-senpai as our new cohost."

"Senpai, huh?" Azuki-senpai said. "Aren't you my senpai as show host, Miura?"

"Technically speaking, I am," I said, "but you're a year ahead of me in school. That being said, if you need something, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Got it," Azuki-senpai said, "and I can think of three things. First, you don't have to be so polite."

"I'll try," I said, "but since you're older than me, it seems only appropriate that I show you respect."

I wondered if Azuki-senpai thought that the principle of respecting one's elders meant that you didn't have to be nearly as polite to those who were younger than you, which might be why she was relatively casual with me, to the point some would consider rude. Of course, my mom, who was my role model when it came to interpersonal interactions, saw it differently, and treated everyone with respect.

"Second," Azuki-senpai said, "shouldn't we introduce ourselves for the benefit of those who haven't read all about us?"

"Sure," I said. "I'm Kaori Miura, the Ultimate Beginner's Luck, of Class 33 of Talent High School. I once hoped to be a writer, but was unable to pursue my dream, which is why I admire Sae Edogawa, the Ultimate Mystery Novelist. Apparently, I am the protagonist of Where Talent Goes To Die."

"Thanks," Azuki-senpai said. "I'm Akira Azuki, the Ultimate Actress, of Class 32 of Talent High School. I appeared in various movies and TV shows as an actress, including the film adaptation of Magical Girl Sakura, and the anime known as Summer's End. I've heard that I'm the protagonist of Where Talent Goes On Vacation."

I nodded approvingly. Virtually everyone in Japan knew about Azuki-senpai, but her explanation would be useful for the few who did not.

"Third," Azuki-senpai said, "could you explain what we're doing?"

"We'll be conducting an interview," I said. "Three of our schoolmates who produce works of fiction will be arriving, and we will ask them various questions about how they deal with producing fiction, as well as their thoughts on Danganronpa V3's ending."

"Got it," Azuki-senpai said. "I probably don't know as much about Edogawa as you do, so is it a problem if I ask stupid questions?"

I shook my head.

"Not at all, Senpai," I said. "Since our viewers know even less, it might be good to have someone who's asking the same things they are."

"All right," Azuki-senpai said. "I assume the others are on the same page as us about what Danganronpa's all about?"

"They are," I said. "We've been told that it's about sixteen talented youth, like us, who are trapped together and told that the only way to graduate is to get away with murder. Naturally, whenever someone does commit murder, you have to solve it, and eventually work toward uncovering the secrets behind the killing game to unmask the mastermind behind it all."

It was amazing how easily I could talk about it, but that was because at this point, it had never happened to me. If you've read about Azuki-senpai and I having to go through the killing games, then those stories were probably about our future selves, or versions of us from some alternate universe.

"Yeah, I got the memo, too," Azuki-senpai said. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be, so let's get this show on the road."

"Very well," I said. "It's time, so would our guests please come in?"

The three guests arrived and sat down across from us. Each of them wore the uniform- Sae and Sayuri-san wore the girls' uniforms, while Kojima-senpai wore the boys' uniform. The only difference in Kojima-senpai's case was that he wore trousers rather than a skirt, and his tie was loose. It was a bit ironic that the one who was expected to wear a tie the most often did the worst job of tying his.

"Welcome to the show, ladies and gentleman," I said, "and thank you very much for coming."

"Thank you for having us, Kaori, Azuki-senpai," Sae said.

"Likewise," Sayuri-san said.

Kojima smiled and nodded, glancing at Azuki-senpai as he did.

"Before we get started, I have a question," Sayuri-san said. "Is it all right if Sae-chan and I use first names on each other and you two, or should we be more formal?"

"First names are fine, Sayuri-san," I said. "Everyone, just treat each other like you always do."

Of course, that term was relative. In my case, Sae was my best friend and girlfriend, and Sayuri-san was a close friend of mine (as well as Sae's) who'd gladly invited me to call her by her first name, but I barely knew Azuki-senpai and Kojima-senpai. Sayuri-san called most people who'd let her by their first names but while she'd become friends with Azuki-senpai, Sae and I, among others, she didn't know Kojima-senpai well.

"Let's get started," Azuki-senpai said. "Why don't you three introduce yourselves?"

"I'm Sae Edogawa, the Ultimate Mystery Novelist of Class 33 of Talent High School, and I wrote the Aiko Aizawa series. It's a series of mystery novels about a high school girl who becomes a detective and solves crimes, alongside Detective Touko Matsuda of the police force. Kaori's a big fan of it."

I couldn't help but smile and blush as I nodded, then glanced at Sayuri-san.

"I'm Sayuri Sasaki, the Ultimate Manga Artist of Class 32 of Talent High School. I'm the writer and artist for Breakneck Canyon, a romance manga featuring a gay couple. Sae-chan likes it, although Kaori-chan probably wishes the leads were women."

"You took the words right out of my mouth, Sayuri-san," I said with a chuckle. "What about you, Kojima-senpai?"

"I'm Shigeru Kojima, the Ultimate Game Designer of Class 32 of Talent High School. I was the head of the group that made Realm of Three Kings, a very realistic RPG set in a medieval society."

I nodded. I'd heard of all their work before, especially Sae's, but it was important to establish who our guests were.

"Now that we've introduced, I'd like to ask a philosophical question of sorts," I said. "Do you think fiction can change reality?"

"To a certain extent," Sae said. "It probably won't change anything dramatically or overnight, but people do inevitably take certain messages away from fiction. In that way, fiction can change people, and, in turn, people can change the world."

"I think so, too," Sayuri-san said, "but the current state of reality- both the world and wherever the writer lives- also influences the writers. For example, since Japan isn't the most accepting of homosexuality, many works tend to shy away from actually showing same-sex couples in serious or lasting relationships, possibly giving the impression that homosexuality is nothing more than a phase in adolescence. Essentially, while our country and the world do change over time, there are also factors that help uphold the status quo."

"You have a point, Sayuri-san," Sae said, "but there are cases in which people are inspired to write what they do _in defiance of_ the status quo. Perhaps some people, like you, write gay couples to stand against those who disapprove of homosexuality."

Sayuri-san nodded, conceding Sae's argument.

"You girls sure like using gay rights as an example, don't you?" Azuki-senpai said.

"Well, it happens to be a subject I write about, as well as one near and dear to my heart," Sayuri-san said. "After all, Sae-chan and I are bisexual, Himeno-chan and Kaori-chan are lesbians, and Hikaru-kun is gay."

"That's the first I've heard about Himemiya-senpai and Kurogane-senpai being like me," I said, "but we're getting off subject. Kojima-senpai, please share your thoughts about whether fiction can change reality."

Kojima-senpai shrugged. For a moment, I wondered if he was paying attention.

"Eh, I don't know," Kojima-senpai said. "Maybe fiction can influence people subtly or in indirect ways, and it can be popular enough to leave its mark on a lot of people, but there are probably better ways to change the world. If I wanted to make gay marriage legal, then I'd probably accomplish more by spending all the time I'd invested into making Realm of Three Kings on internet activism."

While Kojima-senpai's example was a valid one, Realm of Three Kings didn't have any gay couples. In fact, it was set in a medieval society in which homosexuals were viciously persecuted. He'd attracted some controversy for that, but that was reality for people in the Middle Ages, which was why I was glad that I hadn't been born a few centuries ago. In any case, it was anyone's guess how he'd fare if he made a game specifically intended to advocate for gay marriage.

"Fair enough, Senpai," I said, "so why didn't you?"

"Partly because it isn't my strong suit," Kojima-senpai said, "since I'm the Ultimate Game Designer, not the Ultimate Gay Rights Activist. The other part is that I'm not that interested in gay rights. It might be nice if, say, you and Edogawa, as well as Sasaki and Himemiya could get married, but I don't feel too strongly about it, probably because I'm not too political, or because I'm heterosexual."

"Of course you're heterosexual," Azuki-senpai muttered. "I kind of wish you weren't, though, since I feel bad for Kurogane."

None of the others seemed to respond to Azuki-senpai's comment. Eventually, she cleared her throat and asked her next question.

"I've got a question for the three of you," Azuki-senpai said. "Do you feel bad about the shit you put your characters through?"

The three interviewees shook their heads.

"Not at all, Azuki-senpai," Sae said. "At the end of the first book, when Aiko felt guilty about identifying the culprit and leading to her arrest, Detective Matsuda reassured her that she did the right thing, but also reminded her that she chose to become a detective. Aiko realizes that her path is a difficult one, but she's on it because she wants to be, and doesn't whine about it. The story is partially about Aiko growing up and learning what it means to be a detective, and I'm always glad to get fan letters who appreciate that, not just the crime solving."

Sae glanced at me with a smile. I returned the smile, then glanced at Sayuri-san.

"I personally think that hardship can be beneficial to characters," Sayuri-san said. "People sometimes idealize romantic relationships, but in reality, keeping them going involves a lot of hard work and sacrifice. The main couple has to be willing to improve themselves in order to work well as a couple, and if that involves going through hardship together, then so be it. There's a reason why I had the leads of Breakneck Canyon go through a few failed relationships each- men and women, and before and during the story- before they ended up together, and why even their relationship had its ups and downs."

"Ah yes, I remember," Sae said. "One of the leads even met up with his ex-girlfriend, whom he'd dated as a way of trying to 'get over' being gay. Both of them were to blame for the breakup, but the ex-girlfriend didn't hold it against him, and was able to move on to a loving relationship with an acquaintance of the other lead. I guess that means that a bad ending is often a prelude to a happy one."

"I agree," I said, "but while I didn't read the manga, I don't think that their relationship necessarily had to end badly. If someone's special to you and that person feels the same way about you, then it's only natural to want to make things work."

"Quite right, Kaori," Sae said. "Everyone makes mistakes, and it's important to learn from them, but that doesn't mean that those mistakes have to be fatal to one's relationships, or that you even have to make them in the first place."

I smiled and nodded.

"If that answers your question," Azuki-senpai said, "I think it's Kojima's turn now."

"Well, it's hard to say," Kojima-senpai said, "since in a game like mine, a lot of the suffering is inflicted by the players. That being said, if you go on a crime spree in town, you'll get caught, thrown in jail, and ultimately hanged. It's damn near impossible to get away with anything on the highest difficulty setting."

"What about the story?" Azuki-senpai said.

"I'm with the girls," Kojima-senpai said. "People die all the time in a medieval world like the one in my game, through all sorts of causes- famine, plague, war, monster attacks, you name it- and it's part of the realism aspect. Like Edogawa said, I don't just kill characters off for kicks."

We'd gotten what we needed, so after glancing to Azuki-senpai, we silently agreed to move on to the next question. Before that, though, I had a more personal question to ask.

"Next, I have a question for Sayuri-san," I said. "From what I heard, same-sex marriage is legal in Japan in Breakneck Canyon, unlike in real life. Why is that?"

"Good question, Kaori-chan," Sayuri-san said, "since there are three reasons. The first is related to what we were talking about earlier when it comes to changing reality. I wanted to show people a society in which same-sex couples have the same rights as opposite sex couples, and help them realize that it would be a positive change."

"I think so too," I said with a smile.

Sae smiled and nodded, clearly as happy to hear it as I was. Sayuri-san's expression was also pleasant, but she turned more serious.

"Second," Sayuri-san said, "I wanted to show that even if society- well, most of society- accepts same-sex relationships, the people in those relationships naturally have their own challenges to overcome when it comes to making things work. Most of the problems the main couple faces are due to one or both of the members, so the last thing they need are external problems."

I nodded as I waited for her to get to her third point.

"And third," Sayuri-san said, "I had trouble of making the classic 'disapproving in-laws' sympathetic, especially if they disapprove out of homophobia. It's difficult to make such characters seem like real people, as opposed to plot devices to introduce drama, even if such people do exist in real life."

I wondered if Sayuri-san was speaking from experience, but decided not to ask. I'd gotten the answer I was looking for- Sayuri-san wanted to ensure her stories were believable and stayed true to the themes she wanted to express.

Since neither Sae nor Kojma-senpai felt the need to weigh in, Azuki-senpai decided to ask the next question.

"What do you think of breaking the fourth wall?" Azuki-senpai said.

All three of them paused to think for a moment. Unspoken agreement had it that Sae went first, but that didn't mean she'd decided what to say.

"Before I get to my ansewr, I'd like to share a short story," Sae said. "When I was four, I went to see a movie with my parents and older sister- I forget the name. About an hour into the film, the villain sends the hero a fake note from his love interest, whom the villain took hostage, to lure him into a trap. Since the hero wasn't aware that he was being deceived, I yelled out 'Don't do it!' in front of a crowded theater."

I couldn't help but snicker. Sae had always struck me as fairly mature for her age, but maybe it was because I hadn't seen her when she was very young.

"My father apologized for the disturbance, took me out of the theater, and gave me a lecture," Sae said. "He told me that the characters on-screen were simply actors playing their roles, and that since the entire film was recorded footage, they couldn't hear what they were saying. He let me come back in, but warned me that if I made a sound for the rest of the film, he'd take me home. I meekly said 'Yes, sir,' and was completely silent for the next hour and a half."

"Thanks for sharing, Sae," I said. "Let me know if you want to hear any embarrassing stories from when I was a little girl."

I quickly wrote up "IOU One Embarrassing Childhood Story," on a piece of paper, and handed it to Sae. I considered asking Azuki-senpai if she remembered the name of the film, but I doubted it. She was only a year older than Sae and I were, not to mention younger than Sae's sister, and she probably wasn't an expert on movies that she hadn't appeared in.

"Back to our discussion," Sae said. "I personally think fictional stories should be believable, the kind of thing that you should be able to see happening. This generally involves making things believable and realistic, and while science fiction and fantasy do involve technology that doesn't exist in real life and/or magic, it has to feel like a natural part of the world. In my case, I don't think I would have believed it so much if one of the characters had told me it was a movie."

"I feel the same way," Sayuri-san said. "My editor once met me in a local diner, and we overheard a nearby couple arguing. He told me that he wanted viewers to feel like what they were viewing on the pages or on the screen was something that could happen in real life- well, if the viewers could read minds. I doubt that any passers-by would look someone they couldn't see in the eye and ask them if they were enjoying the show or whatnot."

Kojima-senpai chuckled.

"I'm gonna play Devil's Advocate here," Kojima-senpai said. "Breaking the fourth wall is something that is really, _really_ tough to get right if you're doing it seriously, as opposed to a joke. I also agree that it probably wouldn't work with Sasaki or Edogawa's stories. But while it might be a risky choice, you can't make anything that's interesting or memorable if you only take the 'safe' routes. If you think it fits your work, then go for it."

I paused for a moment, unsure of what to say. I couldn't deny Kojima-senpai's success as a game developer, but the same went for Sayuri-san and _definitely_ went for Sae. All three of them had taken different routes to their Ultimate titles, so even if I'd taken a fourth, I had no desire to belittle them for doing things differently.

"Well, that's just my opinion," Kojima-senpai said. "What do you think, Azuki, Miura?"

I sighed. If Azuki-senpai and I could have answered this on our own, then we would have held a panel discussion instead of serving as interviewers. That being said, it was only fair for me to share my perspective after asking for theirs.

"Well, I've never tried it before," I said, "since, like Sae and Sayuri-san, it didn't fit with any of the stories I wrote. Then again, I'm not a professional writer, so I don't think I can really comment on this."

"Me neither," Azuki-senpai said, "since I play characters that other people created, rather than writing my own stories. But, to me, acting is all about becoming my character, and making it so that people like young Edogawa believe what's on screen. Like you said, Kojima, it's pretty much impossible to pull it off unless it's a comedy, in which case a lot of the humor comes from how absurd it is."

"Thanks, you two," Kojima-senpai said. "Going off what Azuki said, in the Danganronpa series, like many other games, you don't get a 'player character' to serve as an avatar in the world- you play as the main character, who has a defined personality. In that sense, while your skill is necessary to overcome the challenges, you're really just guiding the main character through the story. Immersion's important, but you don't have to pretend to be there."

I nodded. While I'm sure that some people reading this had certain things in common with me, a teenage Japanese lesbian with a fondness for reading and writing, I didn't think of myself as a blank slate that anyone could project themselves onto.

"Moving on, I'm curious about something," I said. "What do you think of your viewers?"

Sae chuckled, presumably over my being the one to ask that question. Azuki-senpai and I didn't have any specific order set up for asking the questions; the only rule we followed was keeping the conversation going in a civil manner.

"I'm deeply grateful to them," Sae said. "While a few of them are... somewhat overzealous, my fans' support means a lot to me. The reason why I write and do so well is because people are counting on me... one of whom is sitting right in front of me."

I smiled and blushed.

"I'm with Sae-chan," Sayuri-san said. "I'm not sure what to add, apart from that writing for an audience is difficult. You have to give readers stories they want to read, rather than simply giving them whatever they want. That can seem like a tall order, but since most people know what they're getting into when you write a series, pleasing them is as simple as writing well and staying true to your vision for the series."

"I'm not too different from you two on that regard," Kojima-senpai said. "While I make games that I'd want to play myself, it's just a waste of time if no one else plays them."

"Got it," Azuki-senpai said. "So I take it none of you would be the type to insult your viewers or make fun of them for enjoying your work?"

The three of them firmly shook their heads, which gave us our answer. With all the groundwork laid, it was time for the million dollar question.

"I think it's finally time to get down to what inspired this," Azuki-senpai said. "The three of you had time to watch and read about Danganronpa V3's ending, so... what's your take on it?"

The three paused for a moment.

"Personally, I don't like it," Sae said. "Even apart from the implications for the characters and storyline, it's paradoxically both heavy-handed and surprisingly easy to misinterpret, which is never a good thing. I can't blame people for thinking they're being attacked, that the creator wants to bring Danganronpa to an end- I mean the game series, not the TV show, even if it's easy to confuse the two."

"I see," I said, "but isn't it possible that endings should be open to interpretation?"

"They should," Sae said, "but if they have a message, you should be clear about it. I know because I had to deal with this problem; when Aiko heard that someone she'd helped arrest ended up being sentenced to death, I had to try to avoid making this seem like an endorsement or condemnation of the death penalty."

I remembered that scene. A part of me wondered why they didn't mention the actual execution, but considering how long it took for a prisoner on death row's sentence to be carried out, Aiko would probably be a full-fledged detective by the time the prisoner was hanged.

"I thought Aiko's unease was perfectly natural, Sae," I said. "Personally, I'm not entirely comfortable with the death penalty, so if anything I said or did resulted in someone being convicted and executed, then of course I'd feel bad about it, to say the least."

"Quite true, Kaori," Sae said. "The reason why my editor decided to approve of sharing Aiko's thoughts on the death penalty was because it fit the story. As for Danganronpa V3, I suppose the story about the Danganronpa TV show- both in and of itself and the possibility that it's nothing but a lie- fit with the themes, but I'm not sure it justifies going there in the first place."

Sae, having finished, turned to Sayuri-san.

"I have mixed feelings," Sayuri-san said. "If nothing else, I can respect the creators' boldness. One manga series I know of, The Two Moons of Mars, ended in a fairly disappointing way- the apparent gay main couple never got together- but the manga artist stood by her decision. As for whether the ending of Danganronpa V3 is a good idea... I'm not so sure."

"What's the problem?" Azuki-senpai said.

"Apart from what Sae-chan just mentioned?" Sayuri-san said. "Well, I don't like the idea that the characters' backstories, the various experiences that made them the people who they are, didn't really happen. To use myself as an example, part of the reason why I'm not sure what true love is stems from my parents getting divorced, which shows how difficult it can keep even a seemingly happy relationship going. But what if, for example, my parents were still happily married, and my Ultimate Manga Artist persona is nothing more than a fabrication? Would anything you've learned about me mean anything?"

"I honestly don't know, Sayuri," Azuki-senpai said. "Of course, if you had such a good family, then I don't get why'd you choose to forget them and go off into a killing game where you'd probably die. If they care for you even a little, then you'd break their hearts by doing that."

"That's true, Akira-chan," Sayuri-san said. "Bringing up such an earth-shattering revelation at almost literally the last minute tends to result in more questions than answers, which is why I tend to include plot twists midway through. Then again, they could have a sequel expand on it."

I wasn't sure what sort of plot twists Sayuri-san would include in a romance manga, but that wasn't important right now.

"I think I've said my piece," Sayuri-san said. "Kojima-kun, it's your turn."

"Well, I actually kind of like the ending," Kojima-senpai said. "Sure, it's not exactly subtle, but it does kind of fit with the game's themes of truth and lies. If nothing else, they made something memorable and worth discussing."

"Interesting," I said. "What about the possibility that it might break immersion?"

"It does," Kojima-senpai said, "but this goes back to what I said earlier. In many video games with a customizable avatar, you can pretend that avatar represents you. Here, you're playing as Shuichi Saihara- not to mention Kaede Akamatsu and a couple others, but that's beside the point- a person with his own defined backstory and personality. Instead of using the player character as your means of interacting the universe, you're like an actor playing the character's role, and seeing the story through to its conclusion. I guess that if the characters became aware of the fact that they were in a game, then they'd have opinions."

Technically, Danganronpa was, inside the game, a television show in which people became "fictional characters" and suffered very real deaths, so those who made it to the endgame never actually realized they were in a game. That was probably for the best, though, since the ending was already "out there" enough.

"Good point," Azuki-senpai said, "and that brings us to our next question. What do you think of the game seemingly judging players for watching only to see who lives and dies?"

Sae sighed, clearly seeming exasperated.

"I'm not too happy about it," Sae said. "Perhaps some people may take morbid pleasure in watching the characters' deaths, but others are most invested in the characters' _lives._ You get to know them, learn about their pasts, watch them make good or bad choices, and see them deal with the consequences."

"Including death, right?" Azuki-senpai said.

"Yes, Senpai," Sae said, "since while it is a tragic outcome, like many tragedies, it is a consequence of their or others' decisions. Indeed, rather than watching just to see who lives or dies, you can think of it as rooting for the characters, hoping that they will survive and mourning those who do not."

"Again, I mostly agree with Sae-chan," Sayuri-san said. "and I don't really have anything to add to that. I suppose you disagree, though, Kojima-kun?"

Kojima-senpai nervously laughed and shook his head.

"Not really," Kojima-senpai said. "I mean, it's _supposed_ to be aimed at the in-universe Danganronpa audience, but it's so heavy-handed and meta that you can't blame people for not being able to tell the difference. I guess it fits, but I could've done without it."

I nodded in agreement, then glanced at Azuki-senpai, who was almost ready to be done with this.

"One more question," I said. "What would you like to see in the next Danganronpa game, assuming there is one?"

"I'm not sure," Sae said. "Perhaps a good female protagonist, or a well-written follow-up on V3's ending, but I can't say for certain. Whatever they do, I hope they do it well. What do you think, Sayuri-san?"

"I'd like to see them follow up on their vision," Sayuri-san said, "and not simply back down just because some people didn't like it. I might be one of those people, but I can _respect_ them staying the course if they believe it's the right thing for their story."

"Kind of a mix of what Edogawa and Sasaki said," Kojima-senpai said. "Of course, if they're sick of Danganronpa, I'd be up for a new work that captures the spirit of Danganronpa but brings new stuff into the mix. Maybe it doesn't have to have the Danganronpa name, but it should have some of what made the series successful, along with some new elements."

"Thank you very much," I said. "I can't think of anything else to ask, so I'm finished. What about you, Azuki-senpai?"

Azuki-senpai shrugged.

"Well, I'm out of questions, too," Azuki-senpai said, "so I guess we can call this a wrap. Right, Miura?"

"Indeed, Senpai," I said. "Sae, Sayuri-san, Kojima-senpai, thank you very much for your time."

Azuki-senpai and I stood up, as did our guests, and we bowed to each other, concluding the show. The debate would likely continue for some time, but I hoped that by sharing our thoughts, we would help people come to an understanding of where they stood on the issue.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

This is a sort of meta-fictional commentary on Danganronpa V3 from the perspective of those who write fiction. Again, the characters' opinions don't necessarily reflect my own.

I didn't include Fukawa because she's the sort who doesn't like talking about writing very much, and also didn't include Yamada because he produces fan works, rather than original fiction.


	18. Desperate Measures

**Desperate Measures**

_SPOILER ALERT: Some Chapter III spoilers._

I've once heard that "no plan survives contact with the enemy," which is especially true in situations like the killing game, in which we're our own worst enemies. The plan to have Himeno execute Tatsuki and then die for that to appease Monokuma if we couldn't find a way off the island seemed like a good idea, but that wasn't what ended up happening.

But what if our search of the office complex had revealed nothing, and ended without any deaths? What if we had been forced to take Himeno and Tatsuki up on their offer?

* * *

Not long after noon, the twelve of us assembled outside the prison and gave Higurashi our reports. Kirishima had apparently found something very interesting in the basement, but when pressed as to whether it would help us with our current predicament, he gave a flat and blunt "no." Higurashi did ask him to describe it, and he shared what he'd learned, mainly to humor him. It all seemed pretty interesting, but unfortunately, there was much we still didn't know about it, and likely never would.

Upon our return to the prison, Higurashi and Chiyuri took inventory. They then emerged with a bottle of water, and had us form a circle.

"This is the last of the water," Higurashi said. "Please take a sip before passing it to the next person."

Higurashi opened the bottle and took a sip to set an example for the rest of us, then passed it to Chiyuri, who did the same. I took the bottle and had a sip next, then passed it to Sayuri. A few passes later, the bottle, now almost half empty, found its way to Tatsuki's hands, whereupon she passed it to Asakura.

"You're not thirsty?" Higurashi said.

"It's more that I don't need a drink," Tatsuki said. "Now that we've explored every corner of this island, there's only one way for us to leave that doesn't involve us dying of starvation or dehydration. Why waste water on someone who's about to die?"

The others fell silent for a moment, knowing full well what Tatsuki meant.

"I understand what you're saying, Tachibana-san," Chiyuri said, "but it's still too early for any of us to lay down their lives. We might be out of water, but we're not dying of thirst just yet. Perhaps we could search the office complex and other buildings one more time."

Tatsuki shook her head.

"All of our groups had ample time to search their designated areas thoroughly," Tatsuki said, "or at least as thoroughly as the traps and the damage to the buildings would allow. If we continue, someone may trigger a trap or be murdered, an outcome that becomes more likely as we grow hungrier and thirstier. We not only agreed upon this plan to minimize the death toll, but also to prevent us from being betrayed once again."

Higurashi let off a long sigh. He couldn't deny Tatsuki's point, and a part of him probably always knew that we'd end up having to take her up on her offer, but even so, he never wanted it to happen.

"Are you sure about this, Tachibana-san?" Higurashi said.

"As sure as I'll ever be," Tatsuki said. "I once tried to sacrifice you all so that my sister and I could live, so perhaps it's only fitting that I die so that you can live on. The only shame is that someone else will have to go with me."

"And you, Himemiya-san?" Higurashi said.

"I, too, have made my decision," Himeno said. "A part of me always feared that this island would be my final resting place, but at least this way, my death will have some meaning."

Higurashi looked somber.

"If you two have made up your minds, then I suppose none of us can dissuade you," Higurashi said. "Let's begin our preparations."

Higurashi then led us outside.

* * *

We headed to the gallows. Kumakura, with some help from Kurogane and Higurashi, dug a grave for Tatsuki, and set up a makeshift cross. While we were waiting, Himeno sat down with Tatsuki on the gallows, away from the noose and pressure plate, and I joined them.

"You know, Azuki-san..." Tatsuki said, "I do actually wish I had my uniform- a clean one, mind you- for my execution. I actually did mean what I said earlier about wanting to look nice if I got executed, partly because I hoped that if my plan went wrong, only I would pay."

"True," I said, "but look on the bright side. The good thing about wearing overalls is that no one can look up your skirt. That's why my mom likes wearing a pantsuit."

Tatsuki chuckled mirthlessly. Luckily for us girls, none of the heterosexual guys (and now that I thought about it, Himeno and Sayuri), were the perverted type.

"You have a point," Tatsuki said, "but at the same time, I do take pride in wearing my uniform. I wore it for each of my performances at school events, and my classmates were proud to have a famous musician as a schoolmate. If only they knew what I ended up doing."

Himeno shook her head.

"You made a mistake, but now you're taking responsibility for it," Himeno said. "I don't think it's fair to make you pay with your life, but nothing about this killing game is. What we decided on is merely the lesser of two evils."

"I know," Tatsuki said somberly, "but if someone has to play this role, it may as well be me."

Tatsuki looked around and saw that Kumakura had finished with her grave.

"It's time," Tatsuki said. "Let's get this over with before I lose my nerve."

The three of us got up. Tatsuki put her hands behind her back, and Himeno, producing a pair of handcuffs from her overalls, handcuffed Tatsuki. I then got out of the way, as Himeno had Tatsuki stand on the trapdoor.

Despite knowing that she was about to die, Tatsuki's expression was calm and stoic. Perhaps she saw this as her way of saving everyone else, as well as her atonement for the last trial, and was at peace. Perhaps she thought she would join Taiga in the afterlife, or at least be free of the killing game. Or perhaps she was as good of an actress as her sister had been.

"The execution is about to begin," Himeno said. "Do you have any last words?"

"I do," Tatsuki said. "I know that not all of you will forgive me for my actions in the previous trial, which resulted in Kojima-kun and Taiga's deaths, but I would like you to know how sorry I am, for my belief that it was right to save myself and my sister at the expense of all of you."

Tatsuki bowed deeply.

"The only way for me to pay for my crime is with my life, but if doing so is necessary to save you all, then so be it," Tatsuki said. "No matter how desperate the situation may become in the future, or how badly you want to escape, please do not allow any more murders to occur. This is my last request."

"We promise, Tachibana-san," Higurashi said. At this point, even he knew that we wouldn't be able to keep that promise, but if that lie gave Tatsuki peace in her last moments, then it was a lie worth telling.

"I'm ready, Himemiya-san," Tatsuki said. "It may be difficult to accept that this was our only solution, but please remember- this was my decision."

" _Our_ decision, Tatsuki," Himeno said. "Close your eyes and think of your sister- it will all be over soon."

Tachibana faintly smiled, and closed her eyes, as Himeno put the noose around Tatsuki's neck. Once it was in place, Himeno took a step back and put her foot down on the pressure plate, which had been fixed.

The trapdoor gave way beneath Tachibana, and she dropped through it, coming to a sudden stop as the rope tightened around her neck. The only motion she made was her body swaying in the breeze, with her legs dangling but not kicking. Upon closer inspection, her neck was bent unnaturally, at an angle that was only possible if it had been broken. As she dangled in midair, gazing at us with lifeless eyes, one thing was clear- Tatsuki was dead.

In some ways, Tatsuki's hanging was more disturbing than the previous two executions. While Yamazaki and Taiga's executions had been gruesome, there hadn't been much of them left once they were done. Here, there was a reminder that the person before us had been alive and well minutes ago.

Suddenly, Monokuma appeared.

"Why hello, everyone!" Monokuma said. "I see you all had a nice necktie party and didn't invite yours truly!"

"You don't need our permission to come," I said. "Is this good enough for you?"

"Eh, I'll take it," Monokuma said, "since Taiga-san is dead and one of you is responsible. Now here's the Monokuma File so you can find out whodunnit!"

We then received the Monokuma file.

_Monokuma File EX_

_The victim is Taiga Tachibana, the Ultimate Songwriter_

_The body was found at the gallows, at 1 PM._

_The cause of death is a broken neck. Death appears to have been instantaneous._

I turned up my nose in disgust. Not only had Monokuma deliberately called Tatsuki by her dead sister's name from the last trial until Tatsuki's death, whether to fuck with her head or cover up his own mistake, he'd even written up the Monokuma File accordingly.

We then checked Tatsuki for a pulse, and failing to find it, confirmed she was dead. We then removed the noose from her neck and lay her in her grave. Before we could deliver a eulogy, Monokuma appeared.

"And time's up!" Monokuma said

"Already?" I said.

"It should be long enough," Monokuma said, "since there was only one area relevant to the crime scene, and all of you witnessed the crime. The ship's at the south beach, where you landed; let's see if you can convict the right person."

Monokuma then left, and after shoveling the dirt over Tatsuki's body and bidding her a silent farewell, we had no choice but to return to the ship.

* * *

After returning to the south beach, we boarded the elevator and rode it down once more. None of us said a word to each other on the walk over.

We assembled inside the courtroom. Both twins now had their portraits up- Taiga's had crossed musical notes, while Tatsuki's had crossed guitars.

"It's now time for another class trial," Monokuma said, "one in which you find out who killed Taiga-san. If you vote correctly, that person's going to join her, and if you don't, the rest of you will."

"There's no need for this farce," Himeno said. "Everyone here knows who the culprit is."

"I'm sure they do, Himemiya-san," Monokuma said, "but they still have to make a choice. They've got to identify the culprit, and decide to sacrifice that person."

"Then why don't we cut to the chase?" Himeno said. "Akira, just for the sake of routine, could you please deliver your usual summary of the facts of the case?"

"I can do that," I said.

_The groundwork for Tatsuki's death was laid two days ago, when we were stranded on an island until someone committed murder. Obviously, someone had to die, and someone would be executed for that crme, but who? Tatsuki volunteered to be the victim, while another person chose to become the killer._

_We explored the entire island in search of an alternative, but to no avail. After the final building was searched,_ _the culprit took action. They handcuffed Tatsuki's hands behind her back, and led her to the gallows. Tatsuki, with no choice, decided to play along._

_The culprit then had Tatsuki go to the gallows in the prison courtyard, forced her to stand on the trapdoor, and then fitted the noose around her neck. They then triggered the trapdoor, resultng in Tatsuki being hanged. The culprit was caught in the act, though, and we all know who is responsible._

_Is this good enough for you, Himeno Himemiya?_

Himeno nodded, and the rest of us simply accepted what I'd just said, since we'd all seen it for ourselves.

"It is," Himeno said. "Unless anyone here disagrees, I think it's time for us to vote. Remember; you need to choose me this time."

"Very well," Monokuma said. "Will you make the right choice, or the dreadfully wrong one?"

We cast our votes, and Himeno got all eleven votes, including her own. The craps display showed Himeno's face on the die, along with a "GUILTY" verdict

* * *

The court was once again silent. Despite being sure that we'd gotten the right answer, we waited to see if Monokuma was about to pull a nasty trick to surprise us.

"Once again, you don't disappoint," Monokuma said. "The blackened who killed Taiga Tachibana-san is none other than... Himeno Himemiya-san!"

I could hear sighs of relief around the courtroom, including from Himeno. Of course, while we'd managed to survive, we wouldn't be able to say the same for the one who had chosen death for us.

"Good," Himeno said. "Does this meet with your approval, Monokuma?"

"Kind of," Monokuma said. "Ordinarily, I wouldn't stand for this kind of class trial, in which neither the victim nor the killer put up a fight, but it's actually somewhat better this way. All of you decided that it was better to let Taiga-san and Himemiya-san die rather than share their fate, so you stood by and let it happen. In that way, you're all guilty, but under the rules, Himemiya-san's the only blackened, so only she has to die. The rest of you get to live, and _live with_ the knowledge that you let two people die so you wouldn't have to. It's not every day that you have everyone in the class being involved in a murder, after all."

As Monokuma let off a triumphant "Puhuhuhu!" none of us could give a rebuttal to him. Most of us had believed that it was better for two of us to die than for the entire class to starve to death, but except for those two people, no one had volunteered. Even those who'd opposed this proposal had done nothing to stop it. All of us had, for the third time, voted for blackened, even though this time, that person had not betrayed us. Except for Tsukimura, the first casualty, all of us had blood on our hands, which only got redder the longer the game went on.

"Normally, this would be where I tell you why I committed this crime," Himeno said, "but you already know, so there's no point. Instead, I'd like to make a few parting remarks to those of you who are left."

We nodded, and listened attentively.

"Akira, once again, I'm grateful for your friendship," Himeno said. "I hope to meet you again in another life...but not as my servant, of course."

"I'm glad you feel that way," I said, "and I haven't forgotten our promise. Your secret's safe with me."

Sayuri looked at Himeno, confused, but didn't press her.

"Sasaki-san... no, _Sayuri_ ," Himeno said. "It may be too late now, but I would liike to say yes to your request on the first day. I'm glad to have had you as a friend."

"Oh, Himeno-chan..." Sayuri said, tears welling up in her eyes. "I wish we had more time."

"Me too," Himeno said.

Sayuri choked back a sob.

"Higurashi-san, Nagato-san, please look after the others," Himeno said. "Even if you can't prevent another such tragedy for occurring, please never give up trying, both for the living and the dead."

"You have my word," Higurashi said.

Himeno then looked at the camera near Monokuma's seat. She had one last person to address, even if she wasn't in the courtroom.

"Nagato-sensei, please do what you can to guide your daughter, Higurashi-san, and the rest of us," Himeno said. "Even though you may be imprisoned, you are not helpless."

Nagato-sensei didn't give any response, but Himeno hoped she was listening.

"That's all," Himeno said. "Everyone else, please don't blame yourselves for this. If my family asks about me, tell them that I love them, and that I died bravely, so that you might live. I'm ready, Monokuma."

"Got it," Monokuma said. "Well, let's get this show on the road."

I bit my lip and braced myself. Maybe Himeno was prepared for this, but there was no justice at all in this class trial.

"Now, I've prepared a very special punishment for the Ultimate Archer!" Monokuma said.

"So... this is it," Himeno said. "Kanae... Tatsuki... I'll see you soon."

"Let's give it everything we've got! IT'S PUNISHMENT TIME!"

* * *

**GAME OVER**

**Hi** **memiya-san has been found guilty.**

**Commencing the punishment!**

Himeno closed her eyes, and tried to accept being dragged into the execution chamber- and to her death- with as much grace as she could manage.

_The Ultimate Archer, Himeno Himemiya's's Execution: Executed_

_Target Practice_

Himeno was stood against the wall of a gymnasium, her hands bound behind her back and her ankles chained to the floor. At her back was a padded wall, and on her head was an apple.

An army of Monokumas with crossbows took turns aiming and firing. The first bolt found its way into Himeno's thigh, while the second landed in her shoulder. Several other Monokumas took their turns firing, missing the target as well as missing any vital areas.

After several Monokumas had taken their shots, the rest of them readied their crossbows and fired one last volley of bolts, all of which found their marks in Himeno, turning her into a pincushion, and leaving the apple unscathed. By the end, her clothes were ripped and soaked with blood. The apple, however, didn't have so much as a bruise on it.

As if as an afterthought, one last Monokuma, who apparently hadn't joined the others, took aim, fired, and shot the apple squarely through the center.

* * *

Once again, we were silent in the aftermath of the latest execution. We'd known that this was inevitable from the moment Himeno activated the trapdoor, and perhaps the moment we set foot on the island, but it wasn't any easier to accept than the other two.

"And that's that," Monokuma said. "I hope you enjoyed this execution. If you didn't, maybe you should have volunteered to kill Taiga-san instead. It might've been interesting if Taiga-san and Himemiya-san had switched places, too."

"What the hell about this is supposed to be fun?" I said. "Two of our friends just died!"

"I guess you still don't have the right mindset yet, Azuki-san," Monokuma said. "The educational half of our trip should change that. Once it's finished, you'll look back on the first half fondly."

I shivered as I thought about it. Either Monokuma was planning on brainwashing us, or the second half of our cruise would be so horrific that the first half would seem pleasant by comparison.

"But I've said enough for now," Monokuma said. "Normally, we'd stay in port for the night, but we've got half a day left, so we'll start sailing for the next island fairly soon. Get back to your cabins, because court is adjourned!"

Monokuma vanished once again. Not in the mood to discuss the aftermath, we simply headed for the elevator.

* * *

After we got off the elevator, Chiyuri and Higurashi went to report to Nagato-sensei, while Sayuri ran back to her cabin, crying. As Sayuri left, Mihama walked up to me.

"I suggest that you give Sasaki-san some space for now," Mihama said, "since she has been deeply hurt by losing Himemiya-san."

"All right," I said. "Just let her know that I'm there for her, when she's ready."

Mihama nodded. As Sayuri's cabin mate, she'd probably know best when Sayuri would be ready to talk, since Sayuri would tell her.

"How are you holding up, anyway?" I said. "This is the third time now."

"I am managing," Mihama said, "but this was not easy. Any one of us could have been killed at any point on the island. Worse, as Monokuma said, all of us bore responsibility for Tachibana-san and Himemiya-san's deaths."

"Yeah, we do," I said. "Monokuma might have put us on this island, and they were the ones who suggested it, but in the end, we went along with it. It might've been the lesser evil, but in the end, we still have their blood on our hands."

Mihama sighed.

"Yes, and that was why I did not say that the decision was wrong," Mihama said, "nor that we should have done something else. Even the correct choices have unfortunate results, and we must accept and take responsibility for them. I wonder how we will be judged for our actions."

"If you're talking about whether we deserve to stand trial for this, I can't say," I said, "but the victims of the killing game, especially those last two, deserved better."

What stung the most about today was that the sacrifices we'd made had only bought the rest of us a temporary reprieve. Taiga's sacrifice had only extended her sister's life by six days, so how many days would Tatsuki and Himeno's sacrifice buy us? There were some questions I didn't want to answer, but I knew that as long as we were in the killing game, we'd inevitably have to face the truth, whether we liked it or not...

* * *

_End of Chapter III_

_Class Members Remaining: 11_

_Chest Guard: A memento of Himemiya. It's an essential part of her archery outfit._

* * *

**Author's Notes**

This shows the alternative scenario, in which Himemiya is executed for killing Tatsuki. I wrote this to show that the group would ultimately have resorted to this if not for the unexpected events during the investigation, and what would have come of it.


	19. The Talent Show: Our Other Lie In April

**The Talent Show: Our Other Lie in April**

_Miura's POV_

_Warning: Spoilers through the end of Chapter III, as well as for V3's first chapter_

Once again, I sat in my chair in the recording studio. I wore my old school's winter uniform for old times' sake, even though there was little to be nostalgic about from my time in the killing game. It hadn't been entirely bad, but if I'd had the choice, neither it nor the tragedy that consumed our world would have happened. Knowing that the killing game had started yet again only reinforced that belief...

Of course, I had other things on the agenda this time, so I couldn't get distracted. If nothing else, the killing game had taught me to keep focused even in difficult situations, or perhaps I had always known how to do that. Whatever the case might be, I decided to get the show started.

"Hello, and welcome to the Talent Show," I said. "Please welcome Himeno Himemiya, who has an announcement."

Himeno-san walked forward, dressed in her archery training outfit. Since she wouldn't be here for long, she remained standing.

"Thank you for stopping by, Himeno-san," I said.

"'Himeno-san?'" Himeno-san said. "I don't believe we've met..."

"Miura," I said. "Kaori Miura. I'm terribly sorry for being overly familiar, Himemiya-senpai."

I bowed to Himemiya-senpai. Maybe calling her my senpai wasn't the best idea if she didn't remember going to the same school as me, but it seemed like the best way to save face after that faux pas.

"It's fine, Miura-san," Himemiya-senpai said, "since I know you weren't trying to be rude. In fact, I'm the one who's here to apologize."

Himemiya-senpai turned to the camera broadcasting our show.

"It has come to my attention that somehow, the delays associated with the next installment of this fanfic are my fault," Himemiya-senpai said, "apparently because my character changed during the story's development. For that, I sincerely apologize."

Himemiya-senpai bowed deeply.

"Please don't apologize, senpai," I said. "If the story's taking longer than usual to come out, it's the author's fault; Sae doesn't blame other people when her novels take longer to come out than usual."

Himemiya-senpai seemed to agree, which made me wonder if her initial apology had been mandated. While she'd always struck me as a well-mannered young lady, she never thought much of apologizing. She would do it when it was expected of her, but she'd always believed it was a rather hollow gesture.

"Fair enough," Himemiya-senpai said. "I may not know much more about literature than the average person, but I'd argue that taking the time and making the finished product as good as possible is preferable to rushing through it. After all, I wouldn't be the Ultimate Archer if I never took the time to carefully aim my arrows."

I nodded and conceded Himemiya-senpai's point. I'd long admired Sae because she'd succeeded where I'd failed- at becoming an author- and believed that she had talent I lacked. This wasn't necessarily wrong, but the truth was that she'd worked extremely hard, something that made her accomplishment even more significant.

"Still, I'm curious," I said. "What is this other version of you like?"

"More coarse and unrefined," Himemiya-senpai said. "She'd probably call you 'Miura' without honorifics, and would be rude in other regards; Mother and Father would be ashamed. Unlike me, she... is heterosexual."

"Oh, so you're a lesbian too?" I said.

Himemiya-senpai seemed surprised, which more or less confirmed that she didn't know me. Before the school was sealed, she'd spoken to me about my sexuality, something she'd known about for months.

"Good guess," Himemiya-senpai said, "although the way I danced around the subject didn't make it very difficult. I assume you already have some idea of how people might take this, especially my highly traditional family, so please don't tell anyone."

"You have my word, Senpai," I said.

Himemiya smiled appreciatively, and said, "Thank you, Miura-san."

"But I suppose I've taken enough of your time," Himemiya-senpai said, "since this is meant to be Nagato-san's debut."

"Very well," I said. "Thank you, Himemiya-senpai; you may go now."

Himemiya-senpai bowed and excused herself.

"Without further ado, we shall begin our interview," I said. "Please welcome our guest, Chiyuri Nagato."

Nagato-senpai arrived, wearing a white dress shirt, a gray blazer, a red plaid skirt and a red necktie, the uniform for Saint Mary's Catholic High School. At my invitation, she took a seat near me.

"Thank you very much for coming, Nagato-senpai," I said. "I'm Kaori Miura, your kohai from Talent High School, and host of the Talent Show."

"Thank you for having me, ma'am," Nagato-senpai said.

I blushed a little. Since Nagato-senpai was older than me and my senpai, the onus was on me to be polite. That didn't mean I wouldn't have to be polite to her if our positions were reversed, since I'd still use '-san' on her family name. Her status as an older girl in a higher grade merely meant that I was expected to go the extra mile for her.

"You don't have to call me that, Senpai," I said. "If you want to be polite, please just call me 'Miura-san.'"

"All right, Miura-san," Nagato-senpai said. "May I ask what sort of questions you have for me?"

"A few kinds," I said, "about you as a person, your talent and what you might bring as the new protagonist."

Nagato nodded and listened attentively.

"My first question is about your talent," I said. "How did you become known as the Ultimate Tech Support?

Nagato-senpai sighed.

"Truthfully, because of familial connections," Nagato-senpai said. "Because I'm the illegitimate daughter of the chairman's son, the chairman offered to let me come to the school. They needed a talent to give me, so they decided to call me the Ultimate Tech Support, since I helped my mother and my schoolmates with their problems."

I'd heard of people being awarded their titles for similar reasons- Mitamura-san(who seemed to be Nagato-senpai's cousin) and Iwasawa-san were among them. That being said, it seemed as though Nagato-senpais nomination wasn't completely baseless.

"But you did prove that you had talent, though, didn't you?" I said.

"Maybe I did," Nagato-senpai said, "but I don't feel as though I deserve the title as much as some of my peers do."

I nodded in understanding, since I knew the feeling somewhat. Of course, there was a difference between having a pseudo-talent like mine and feeling as though I didn't actually earn my position, so any words of sympathy I had would likely ring hollow to Nagato-senpai.

"How do you feel about coming to Talent High School?" I said. "That is, before you reaized the killing game would be happening?"

"It's complicated," Nagato-senpai said. "On the other hand, it will be an adjustment to treat my mother as a teacher. On the other hand, it was a great opportunity to prove myself as something other than an illegitimate child."

"I see," I said. "My parents would probably have similar expectations if I ended up working for them."

Nagato-senpai nodded.

"I'm curious about something, Senpai," I said. "Do you call _everyone_ 'sir' and 'ma'am'?"

"No, ma'a- I mean, not exactly, Miura-san," Nagato-senpai said. "I use those when speaking with my teachers or other adults and reflexively use them when I'm nervous, but not to everyone."

"I understand," I said. "Personally, if you were older than 18, regardless of whether you're older than me, I'd probably use 'ma'am' instead of all the times I call you 'senpai'. I wouldn't insist on being called that, but I'll probably have to get used to it someday."

"There's no time like the present... ma'am," Nagato-sensei said.

I giggled softly, then composed myself and got back on subject.

"I like your uniform," I said, "since it looks quite nice on you and is similar to mine. Is it from your old school?"

"It is," Nagato-senpai said. "It's from Saint Mary's Catholic School, an all-girls Catholic school that's close to Talent High School."

"I see," I said. "So, are you a practicing Catholic?"

"I am," Nagato-senpai said. "For me, being a Catholic not only means living according to the Bible's teachings, but being the best person I can be."

"Ah," I said. "I'm curious because one of my classmates was a Christian, too. I don't know what denomination she was part of, but I don't think she was Catholic."

"I can't speak for other Catholics," Nagato-senpai said, "but to me, one's denomination doesn't matter. I'd be interested in meeting a fellow Christian, even if our beliefs differ, and the same goes for my non-religious classmates. After all, I'd be severely limiting myself if I only associated with those who have the same beliefs I do. To me, it's better to focus more on what we have in common than our differences."

I smiled. The world would be a better place if more people were as tolerant as Nagato-senpai was.

"I'd like to know more about your classmates," I said. "Do you have many friends?"

Nagato-senpai sighed and shook her head.

"Not exactly," Nagato-senpai said. "I get along reasonably well with most of my classmates, with some exceptions- namely Asakura…-san-, but I'm not really friends with them. I'm Higurashi-san's assistant, but it's mainly a professional relationship. Akira-san and I were friends, but..."

Nagato-senpai trailed off, and all I could say was "I'm sorry." Getting over the loss of a friend was not easy even in the best of times, but it was especially hard in the killing game. There was little advice I could give that wouldn't come off as a platitude, so all I could offer was support.

"Do you have any other questions, Miura-san?" Nagato-senpai said, to change the subject.

I shook my head.

"I've asked all my questions, Senpai," I said, "so now it's your turn. Please ask me whatever questions you'd like."

"I'm curious about something, Miura-san," Nagato-senpai said. "How would you act if you had your mother as your teacher?"

"I'd treat her the same way as my other teachers," I said, "which would involve calling her 'Miura-sensei,' 'sensei' or 'ma'am.' Mom would call me 'Miura-san,' although considering that she already calls me 'Kaori-san,' it wouldn't be as much of an adjustment."

Nagato-senpai chuckled.

"It sounds as though your mother's cut from the same cloth as mine," Nagato-senpai said. "Do you take after her?"

"In some ways," I said. "I do try to be polite to most people, although I use '-kun' for boys who are my age or younger. Of course, if I became a teacher, or got an office job, I'd probably use '-san' on everyone who doesn't warrant a special title."

Nagato-senpai seemed satisfied with my answer. After pausing a moment, she decided to move on to the next question.

"I suppose the answer to my next question is 'no,'" Nagato-senpai said, "but do you believe in God?"

"Not at all Senpai," I said, "but while I'm an atheist, I do respect those who have strong religious beliefs. After my third class trial- like you, I lost a friend around that time- Iwasawa-san prayed for me, hoping that her god could help me in my time of need. The fact that I don't believe in God doesn't matter- the fact that Iwasawa-san did was what gave her gesture meaning."

"I'm glad to hear that," Nagato-senpai said, "and I'm sorry to hear about your loss."

I smiled and said "Thank you very much, Senpai," in response. Nagato-senpai hadn't heard of Ami-chan, but that didn't make her words any less sincere.

"This may sound like I'm breaking the fourth wall," Nagato-senpai said, "but do you think of yourself as an empty vessel for readers to project themselves onto?"

"Not really," I said. "As a relatively ordinary person, I'm probably easier for most people to empathize with than the talented and eccentric Ultimates, but I don't think I could be a vessel for anyone. No matter who the reader is, I'm sure they would do things differently from me at certain points."

"I'm sure they would," Nagato-senpai said. "I think that as far as vessels go, you'd certainly be more desirable than me."

Nagato-senpai tried to laugh off the comment, but I couldn't help but notice some disturbing subtext in it. While there were many people who were far more impressive than I was, did Nagato-senpai really think herself to be that much inferior to most people? Before I could get an answer, or even consider whether to ask the question, she changed the subject.

"One last question," Nagato-senpai said. "Do you have any advice for me?"

"Let's see..." I said. "You'll have to make many hard decisions from here on out, just like you have until now. You _will_ have regrets, but the only thing you can do is keep pressing on and trying to save as many as you can. You won't remember what we discuss here today, but I'm sure you'll learn that lesson sooner or later."

"I hope so," Nagato-senpai said. "Thank you very much, Miura-senpai; I don't have any more questions."

I chuckled.

"Senpai, huh?" I said. "Even if your memories of our time together were wiped, you're still a year older than me, as well as a year ahead of me in school."

"That was just a slip of the tongue," Nagato-senpai said, "but I still think the senpai role fits you. You mentioned the possibility of becoming a teacher, and I think you should give that career path some serious thought."

I nodded, and said "I'll think about it." I hadn't been anyone's senpai since I graduated from middle school, but maybe Nagato-senpai had a point.

"That's all for the interview," I said. "We have a few other things planned, so stay tuned."

We took a short break, during which time Nagato-senpai told me a little about herself. While we had more than a few significant differences, we also had some similarities, and her situation was fundamentally the same as the one I was facing. As Nagato-senpai said, our commonalities were more important than our differences, so we could lear a lot from each other.

* * *

After the break, Nagato-senpai and I were joined by Azuki-senpai, who wore her Talent High School uniform. While the two were friends, Nagato-senpai seemed rather uncomfortable to see Azuki-senpai, who seemed fairly confused about it.

"Something wrong, Chiyuri?" Azuki-senpai said. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"You... could say that, Akira-san," Nagato-senpai said. "But how do I put this...?"

As Azuki-senpai looked on with a puzzled expression on her face, I pulled Nagato-senpai aside and whispered to her.

"I don't think Azuki-senpai knows what's going on," I said. "There may come a time when she will experience the same things you did, but for now, she deserves to be blissfully ignorant- not that she'll remember anything she hears here."

As Nagato-senpai nodded, and apologized, I had to wonder what we might have done if we'd known about the upcoming calamity and everything we'd suffer inside Talent High School. Could we have stopped the Tragedy? Would our efforts have only made things worse? Or had things always been entirely out of our hands? If we were intelligent enough to know the answers, we probably could have achieved a better outcome.

I turned back to Azuki-senpai.

"I apologize for the wait, Azuki-senpai," I said. "Do you have something to share with us?"

"I have an announcement to make today," Azuki-senpai said, in an unusually formal tone. "I believe I owe you an apology for deceiving everyone. You see... I am male."

Nagato-senpai let out an unusually hammy "Whaaat?!" While Azuki-senpai had a good track record of voicing male characters- not just prepubescent boys or androgynous men- Nagato-senpai probably didn't have much potential as an actress.

"It is true," Azuki-senpai said. "As such, I would like to apologize to everyone who expected a female protagonist and ended up being disappointed. I apologize to Chihiro Fujisaki-san for ripping off his plot twist- in his case, the reveal about a girl being a boy tied into a story about how difficult it can be to live up to gender roles, but here, it's just a plot twist for the sake of a plot twist. I apologize for ripping off another Danganronpa fan work with a crossdressing boy as a main character... because really, that wasn't even a good idea the first time."

I couldn't help but chuckle. Public apologies often were motivated by saving face rather than genuine repentance, so it was refreshing to see Azuki-sennpai's candor.

Azuki-senpai cleared "his" throat and continued.

"And I have one last apology to make," Azuki-senpai said, "...to all the suckers who thought I was being serious. Two words, folks- December Fools."

Azuki punctuated the end of her faux-apology with a smirk.

"That's a wrap, Nagato-senpai said. "Thank you, Akira-san."

"You're welcome, Chiyuri, but I don't get why I had to do it," Azuki-senpai said. "What about Miura? Isn't she the original female protagonst in the series?"

"She is," Nagato-senpai said, "but she can't pass as a boy nearly as well as you can. Even if you cut her hair and gave her boys' clothing to wear, it'd be harder to cover up her breasts."

I blushed and nodded. My breasts weren't all that big- only barely C cups- but it would be difficult to hide them. My clothes weren't too form-fitting or revealing, but anyone who looked at me from the side could see them.

"P-Point taken, Senpai," I said. "Let's move on to our final act. We're going to stage a re-enactment of a certain scene from Danganronpa V3: Killing Harmony- namely, just before the first murder- as an exercise of sorts. Let's get moving; we've got preparations."

Nagato-senpai and Azuki-senpai nodded, then followed me into the hall.

* * *

Azuki-senpai, Nagato-senpai and I stood together in a room inside the studio that was a replica of the classroom. Nagato-senpai had exchanged her blazer for a pink sweater vest, hanging the former on the back of a chair, while Azuki-senpai had put on a blue gyakuran top and a baseball cap.

"So let me go over the scene one more time," I said. "Nagato-senpai will play Akamatsu-san, while Azuki-senpai will play Saihara-kun. When I activate the receiver, which will sound a series of loud beeps, Azuki-senpai will run out of the room and into the hallway. A moment later, Nagato-senpai will drop everything she's carrying, then follow Azuki-senpai. Do you have any questions?"

"I do," Nagato-senpai said. "This backpack seems unusually heavy- why is that?"

"It has a spare sweater vest and a shot put ball inside," I said. "The latter's probably the main reason."

Nagato-senpai looked at me skeptically.

"I see," Nagato-senpai said, "but I honestly don't see why. Students generally carry their books and school supplies in their backpacks, not athletic equipment or spare clothing.. My school allows students to wear approved sweater vests under their blazers but over their shirts and ties during the winter months, but students wouldn't need to carry theirs around."

"And what if yours gets dirty?" I said.

"Then I'd probably have to go home to change," Nagato-senpai said. "It would be inconvenient, but since I live within walking distance of Saint Mary's, it wouldn't be the end of the world. Besides, while my school's strict about the dress code, I've never gotten sent home."

"I see," I said. "If both of you are ready, I'll activate the receiver in a few moments. Be prepared to get moving the moment it sounds."

Both of the others, nodded, then stood attentively listening for the cue. A couple minutes later, the signal sounded, and I ran out of the room. After a moment, Nagato-senpai followed me, leaving the backpack behind. Once both were out, I followed them into the hallway.

"Good work, you two," I said. "Out of curiosity, though, Nagato-senpai, what did you do with the backpack? Specifically, the shot put inside it?"

"As you can see, I just dropped the backpack on the floor," Nagato-senpai said, "sweater vest, shot put and all. Was there something I was supposed to do with it?"

I shook my head.

"No," I said. "That's a valid interpretation of the script, as well as what most people would think of when they read the instructions. In the game, however, Akamatsu-san took out the shot put and rolled it into the duct, through the vents, and supposedly onto Amami-kun's head."

Azuki-senpai sighed.

"So they simply decided to obfuscate the twist with misleading word choice?" Azuki-senpai said. "Talk about lame."

"What would you have them do, Senpai?" I said.

"For starters, I'd write a better script," Azuki-senpai said. "Something like the following."

Azuki-senpai borrowed a notepad and a pen, and after a moment of brainstorming, started writing. After discarding one preliminary draft, she wrote up another, then presented it to me.

"Here's my best shot," Azuki-senpai said. "Just keep in mind that I'm the Ultimate Actress, not the Ultimate Director or Ultimate Scriptwriter."

_INT- CLASSROOM_

_As SAIHARA dashes out of the room, AKAMATSU pauses for a moment. She surreptitiously removes the shot put from her backpack, and after quickly checking to see that no one is looking, rolls the ball into the ventilation duct, its final destination being the suspected mastermind's head._

_Her grim task completed, AKAMATSU quickly rushes to join SAIHARA, resolute and unsmiling. She takes no pleasure in what she just did, but believes doing so is necessary to protect her friends. All she can do is hope that she was right._

"That's quite good," I said. "It more or less describes what you're aiming for, and how the actress playing should playing Akamatsu-san should play her part."

"Thanks, Miura," Azuki-senpai said. "Of course, the challenge would be to show Akamatsu rolling the ball without making it _too_ obvious, although that's the cameraman's job. Then again, since movie characters' thoughts aren't shown, it wouldn't come out of nowhere."

"Speaking of which," I said, "if you came across the body of someone you'd killed, and you knew you were responsible, then what would be the first thing going through your head?"

Azuki-senpai paused to think for a moment, since she'd probably never been asked that question before.

"It depends," Azuki-senpai said. "If it was an accident and/or I didn't want to kill them, I'd feel awful about it and probably confess. If I intentionally killed the person, I'd probably try to keep a poker face, but inside, I'd be thinking, 'If I screw up, I'll get caught.'"

"That sounds fair enough," I said. "Of course, I think anyone would be unsettled upon seeing a murder victim, unless they've seen them so often that they've gotten numb to it."

"Probably," Azuki-senpai said. "Of course, I've never seen a real murder victim, so I wouldn't know."

Azuki-senpai soon said goodbye to me, and while I thanked her for answering my questions, my heart was heavy. While she was blunt and a bit cynical by nature, she still had a certain amount of innocence to her. I hoped she would never lose that innocence, or her sense of right or wrong; after all, even after everything that had happened, I hadn't, either.

* * *

As our program came to an end, Sae and I, along with the four surviving female members of Class 32 and our teacher, met up in the lounge of the recording studio, all wearing fancy kimonos as pre-New Year's fanservice. I wore pink, Sae wore blue, Sayuri-san wore red, Himemiya-senpai wore purple, Nagato-senpai wore yellow, Tatsuki-senpai wore sky blue, and Nagato-sensei wore orange.

Naturally, introductions were in order. Sae and I had to re-introduce ourselves to a close friend, a girl who'd opened up to us enough to trust us with her most closely guarded secret, our homeroom teacher, and a couple others who, while acquaintances rather than friends, knew our names; the only reason why Sayuri-san agreed to let us call her by her first name was because she was naturally amenable to the idea. I knew it wasn't their fault, and so shouldn't take it personally, but it still hurt to be treated as strangers by my schoolmates and friends. In fact, Sayuri-san and Himemiya-senpai seemed unusually distant toward each other, and the only difference was that neither of them was aware of what they'd forgotten.

"Wow, I don't think I've worn a kimono since my last New Year's show," Tatsuki-senpai said, "but don't you think it's a little early for this?"

"Or a little late, depending on when you're reading this," Sayuri-sani said. "One manga artist I know published a chapter that takes place on Christmas in the middle of May. If I recall correctly, the tankobon release came out in January."

"I have the same problem," Sae said. "Since some of Aiko's longer mysteries take two volumes to cover, and are released months apart, time in-universe advances at a slower rate than in real time. Aiko was actually older than I was when I started the series. Maybe one day you'll become older than your main couple, too."

Sayuri-san giggled and shook her head.

"Good one, Sae-chan," Sayuri-san said, "but I don't plan on having Breakneck Canyon go on that long."

Sae silently concurred with the sentiment, as did I. While a part of me would like seeing new Aiko Aizawa novels for years to come (assuming Sae was able to get them published again), I had no desire to see the series become a cash cow that would inevitably wear out its welcome. What I did hope was for Sae to see the story, too large for a single book, to the conclusion she wanted, before either moving on to her next dream project or retiring, depending on her preferences.

"In any case," Nagato-sensei said, "while Chiyuri and I, being Christians, don't partake in the shrine visits, I'm always glad to celebrate the start of a new year with my students. Let's do our best in the new year."

I nodded, and made a silent prayer to whatever god was willing to hear it. I hoped that these girls, their male classmates and the teacher in charge of them would escape safe and sound, without having to lose any more friends to the killing game.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Unlike other Talent Show installments, this features the characters as they currently are in the story, rather than from high school. Azuki, however, is from her time at Talent High School, and is unaware of her eventual death.

For your reference, Miura and Edogawa quickly became friends with Sasaki, and later befriended Tsukimura and Himemiya, the latter of whom came out of the closet to Miura in March. They didn't have any other close friends in Class 32.

While it's barely after Christmas, I decided to keep the April Fool's motif from the fic's counterpart for Where Talent Goes To Die, and also have the surviving girls get dressed in kimonos for New Year's.


	20. Free Time Events: Akira Azuki

**Free Time Events: Akira Azuki**

_Warning: All Free Time Events from this point forward will have major implicit spoilers for the main story, at least through Chapter III. Consider yourself warned._

**EVENT 1: Azuki-san got started in acting at a young age, and fondly remembers her humble beginnings.**

I spent some time with Azuki-san, and got the chance to ask about her for the first time since we got here. We'd been preoccupied by other things, but now that we had a free moment, she was happy to oblige me.

"There's something I'm curious about, Azuki-san," I said. "How did you get started in acting?"

Azuki-san paused. For a moment, I worried that she'd get angry at me for asking her for information I could read in a magazine or look up online (even if we didn't have either on the Ursa Major), but after a moment, she answered.

"Good question, Nagato," Azuki-san said. "In first grade, my class did a play, and I ended up getting the lead role. I forget the title, but it was a story about a prince who goes on a journey and saves a princess. A lot of media outlets know about my first 'real' voice acting role- as the protagonist's little sister on Heartthrob High School- but not many people know what I did before that."

"I see," I said. "Anyway, in that play, were you cast as the princess?"

"The _prince_ ," Azuki-san said. "Our class was short on boys, and none of them were up to the job, so I auditioned. I passed with flying colors, and the rest was history."

Azuki-san smiled as she recounted her story. She was obviously proud of herself, but she was also a bit nostalgic, and not just because we were trapped on a cruise ship. She probably also liked how her androgynous looks and boyish name came in handy from time to time.

"Performing in school plays was really fun," Azuki-san said. "It was a real rush to be the best in your class at something, and to more or less do the same thing all those actors on TV do. While you're on that stage, you get to be someone you're not- in my case, the hero of the story- and bring a story to life by participating in it."

"And you made it all the way to stardom," I said, "going from the prince in a school play to Magical Girl Sakura herself."

Azuki-san looked a bit uncomfortable after hearing Magical Girl Sakura's name, but if she was bothered, she didn't say it straight out.

"Yeah, but some of the best times I've had acting were when I performed with amateurs," Azuki-san said. "Despite obviously not having the skill or the experience the pros do, they actually do acting because they love it, not to build their resumes or get a paycheck. They love what they do, even if they aren't the best at it. As long as they actually do put in an effort, I can work with them."

I remained silent for a moment, pondering what Azuki-san had said.

"Are you surprised, Nagato?" Azuki-san said.

"Somewhat," I said. "I get where you're coming from, but I always thought that people who were good at something always aimed for the highest level- for example, a child who likes swimming at the local pool might want to one day compete in the Olympics. The only question is if that child's good enough."

"I get that," Azuki-san said. "Of course, for me, acting itself is most important, and as long as I can keep doing it, I'l be happy."

This conversation was an eye-opening experience in more ways than one. Not only had I learned more about Azuki-san, but I'd also seen the perspective of someone who was truly passionate about what she'd done.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Being famous isn't without its downsides, but Azuki-san sees it as a necessary evil to do what she loves most.**

We continued talking about some of Azuki-san's earlier works. Her school had been impressed by her performance as the prince, and cast her as the lead in the play about a high school student (a girl this time) who wakes up in the hospital with amnesia, and hears about how her schoolmate, her younger half-brother and her girlfriend perceive her. It was an interesting concept, and made me think about how I looked at Azuki-san herself.

"I've been thinking about where we left off last time," I said. "Back when we first met, you didn't seem happy to be recognized by your classmates. Is that true?"

"Not entirely," Azuki-san said. "I mean, it's a real pain have the attention of guys like Kojima, and there's a hell of a lot of people out there who make him seem tame. Then again, when it comes to being an actress, fame is a bit of a chicken and an egg proposition. Not only are the best actors famous, but you also have to be famous to succeed."

"What do you mean?" I said.

"It's simple," Azuki-san said. "You have to be fairly well-known to be an attractive prospect for casting and to have a fanbase large enough to keep your career going. Usually, this just requires being good at what you do, having a competent promoter and being smart about picking your roles, but one mistake can cost you big time."

I was speechless for a moment. On the one hand, this made the already unachievable goal of being an actress seem even further out of my reach. On the other hand, the more I learned about Azuki-san, the more human she seemed.

"That sounds difficult," I said.

Azuki-san shrugged.

"When I hear people talk about acting, it's often wannabe actors who think it'd be a lot of fun, and jaded actors who think it's a pain in the ass," Azuki-san said, "but really, neither group's completely right. It is a lot of hard work and there are some pretty seedy elements to the business, but if you can deal with everything that comes your way, it's also really fulfilling. It's not something I'd recommend to just anyone, but if you can make it, you should go for it."

"That's reasonable enough," I said, "but how do you know who can make it and who can't?"

"I honestly don't," Azuki-san said, "but I'm fairly certain a lot of people would know if they obviously aren't up to snuff. All I can say is I guess I'm one of the lucky ones."

While Azuki-san was a talented actress, she didn't necessarily have what it took to evaluate others' potential, probably because most of her coworkers were people who'd realized that potential.

"Yes, you are," I said. "I wish I had something- anything at all- that I was as good at as you are at acting."

Azuki-san gave me a look that said "Apart from tech support?" but luckily for me, didn't ask about that.

"You don't have to be 'the best' at anything," Azuki said, "since I'm probably not the best actress ever. All you need is something that you're good at and you love, and the rest should take care of itself."

I nodded and thanked Azuki-san, even though I wasn't sure whether I even had what she described. That bein said, I could tell that some of Azuki-san's inner strength came from her ability to think positively, so I resolved to at least try to do so.

* * *

 **EVENT 3:** **Azuki-san wasn't happy about playing Magical Girl Sakura, but took the role for the sake of her career.**

After discussing all of Azuki-san's school plays, our conversation moved on to her professional acting roles. Azuki-san seemed a bit weary of talking about those, probably because of the endless interviews she had. That said, she was eager to talk about Shakespeare's plays, and her hope that one day, she'd be able to play a part in a work that become as much of a timeless classic as the Bard's greatest plays.

"I'll be honest, Nagato," Azuki-san said. "As much as you like Magical Girl Sakura, I wasn't too thrilled with how it turned out. I always thought it was kind of saccharine and childish."

"I suppose I see why you feel that way," I said, "since some critics used the same terms to describe it. I don't agree, though."

"I know," Azuki-san said. "What _do_ you like about it, though?"

I paused to carefully word my answer.

"Let's see..." I said. "I liked how Sakura was portrayed fairly realistically for a child her age, particularly getting scared in her first real battle, and you did a good job of showing that. I also liked how Sakura's mother being a single mom wasn't just a way to avoid having to show her dad, but was actually a plot point. More than anything, though, it's fun. The story's engaging enough that you want to know how it turns out, it's believable enough to keep you invested in it and the characters are human enough to relate to. I guess what I'm saying is that I left the theater having enjoyed myself, and a lot of kids my age did, too."

"I get that," Azuki-san said.

I scrutinized Azuki-san. While her remark wasn't meant to be unsurprised or dismissive, something I said had struck a chord in her.

"Anyway, my mom saw potential in Magical Girl Sakura," Azuki-san said, "and foresaw that it would be a hit. She's not a fan of the series, since she's a couple decades outside its main demographic, but she did think it was well-made, and saw it as a good opportunity, so she insisted that I try out for the part- and take it once I got it."

"And you went along with it?" I said.

"Yeah," Azuki-san said. "Magical Girl Sakura wasn't my cup of tea, but it was popular and reasonably well-liked, so if I did a good job, it would be good for my career. Practically speaking, I had no reason to refuse."

Judging from how Azuki-san had reacted to seeing me around Nagato-sensei, it was obvious that her professional relationship with her mom was very different than my relationship with my mother-cum-teacher. Still, the elder Azuki-san was Akira-san's mother, so she still expected her daughter to obey her.

"The other reason," Azuki-san said, "is that my mom isn't purely doing this for herself. She wants a good career so she can put food on the table, but she also wants me to be a famous actress- or otherwise have a steady and well-paying job- so I can support myself. She knows she won't always be there for me, and wants me to be able to stand on my own in case anything happens to her."

"That's reasonable," I said. "Mom hoped that getting into Talent High School would help ensure my future success."

"Good for Nagato-sensei," Azuki-san said. "I guess our moms have that in common."

Azuki-san quickly changed the subject back to her professional film roles, much to my surprise. While Azuki-san had always struck me as outspoken and blunt, were there things that even she didn't like to talk about?

* * *

**EVENT 4: Azuki-san was impacted by her father's death, which she realizes didn't solely affect her.**

When I met up with Azuki-san, she didn't seem to be in any mood to talk about her films.

"Is something on your mind, Azuki-san?" I said.

Azuki-san nodded.

"By now, I suppose you've noticed that I've never mentioned my dad," Azuki-san said. "I think it's time I told you why."

Speaking from personal experience, I could probably tell that it wasn't a very happy story. That said, Azuki-san had resolved to tell it, so if she was willing, I had no desire to stop her.

"I'm listening," I said.

"Back when I was six, my dad was killed in a car accident," Azuki-san said. "It was a head-on collision when he was on the way home from work. None of us knew it was coming- Mom prepared dinner as usual, I couldn't wait to tell Dad about my day at school and Dad himself probably never realized that he wouldn't make it home until he saw the other vehicle coming right toward him."

"That's horrible..." I said. "Losing your father so suddenly and at such a young age."

Azuki-san nodded. I don't know how much she knew about me- specifically, that my father had died while Mom was pregnant with me- but she could tell that I understood. Perhaps Azuki-san had known her father, but she was also old enough to remember the pain of losing him.

"That's not the worst part," Azuki-san said. "What if I told you that the accident was _my dad's fault_?"

"How?" I said reflexively, with the words reaching my lips before I understood what I was saying.

"I overheard some conversations in the days after my dad died," Azuki-san said, "and did some digging when I got older. Dad's car was the one that crossed the center line and struck the oncoming vehicle, resulting in the accident. The other driver didn't make it, either, and he _also_ had a daughter."

I thought about my own experience. While my father had been struck by a car and killed, it was as a pedestrian, and he was legally crossing the street.

"As you can see, it didn't make things any easier for me," Azuki-san said. "Whenever I miss my dad, I keep thinking about how his mistake cost someone else their life, and how there's another girl who lost her father. I have to wonder; do I have the right to miss him, when he took down another girl's father with him?"

"I think you do," I said without missing a beat. "Rather than compare who has it worse, you should have empathy for those with similar problems. Because that girl lost her father, you should understand how she feels and vice versa. I know because... I lost my father in a similar way."

"I had no idea," Azuki-san said. "Maybe you're the other girl?"

I shook my head firmly.

"I don't think so," I said. "My father died not long after my mother became pregnant with me. Our incidents were probably six to seven years apart."

"Yeah, I get it," Azuki-san said, a bit relieved. "But seriously, Nagato, I do see a lot of myself in you. Our dads aside, we both work hard for our moms' sake."

"Even if my career isn't nearly as important as yours?" I said.

"I believe so," Azuki-san said. "As long as you take it seriously, and do it well, then it'll serve that purpose just fine."

I nodded appreciatively. Some people would probably say something like that just to be nice, probably because people like me seemed pitiful to most who were living lives they were proud of. Azuki-san, however, wasn't the kind to sugarcoat her words, so if she said something nice, she meant it.

"I'm glad to hear that," I said. "Even if you didn't like Magical Girl Sakura, you did an excellent job as the lead. Even those who didn't like the film said you took the role seriously and played it well, so it's only natural that I'd think so, too."

"Thanks," Azuki-san said. "I guess that's what's really important."

I nodded.

"One more thing," I said. "Is it all right if I call you 'Akira-san'?"

"I was hoping you'd ask, _Chiyuri_ ," Akira-san said. "And the answer's yes. The '-san' is optional, though."

"Thank you, Akira-san," I said. "I take it you won't mind if I add it anyway."

Despite our depressing conversation, we shared a laugh, since we glad to see the barriers between us crumbling. There weren't many people I could tell about my father, apart from my mother, the woman he had loved, so I was overjoyed that I could add Akira-san to that small but growing list.

* * *

**EVENT 5: Akira-san has started to appreciate her projects more.**

We decided to spend some time in my room, and sat on my bed. Akira-san shared some stories about plays back in Shakespeare's day, such as how for all their reputation as high-brow literature, Shakespeare included some low-brow humor for the less sophisticated masses of Elizabethan England.

"You know, Chiyuri," Akira-san said, "I've been thinking, and maybe I was wrong to think of Magical Girl Sakura as just an opportunity to advance my acting career."

"Oh, really?" I said. "What brought about the change of heart?"

"For starters, people like you actually enjoy it," Akira-san said, "so it serves its purpose well. A lot of movies are supposed to be fun to watch, and in that sense, everyone who works on them are entertainers."

"Like you and your classmates were back in elementary school?" I said.

Akira-san nodded.

"Yeah, we were," Akira-san said. "The play didn't charge admission and there weren't any professional critics in attendance, but the school enjoyed it, and some of my classmates kept telling me that I did a good job. Of course, the people who gave bad reviews to Magical Girl Sakura wouldn't be any kinder to us if they held us to the same standard as the films they reviewed."

"Do you think they're wrong?" I said.

"Hard to say," Akira-san said. "The critics often have good points about what the movie makers did well or badly, but sometimes, viewers like a movie critics hated or vice versa. Maybe the fans aren't thinking as deeply as the critics, or the critics are so caught up analyzing the artistic and technical merits that they don't consider whether the movie's fun. I don't know which of them is 'right' or if there's even a right or wrong in debates like this, but as long as people enjoy my work, then I'm happy."

"I'm glad to hear that," I said. "I'm looking forward to your next work, whatever it is."

"Thanks, Chiyuri," Akira-san said. "I hope that someday, I'll play a big role in a work produced by the next Shakespeare, but for now, I'll do my best to produce movies and shows people will enjoy. That's the least I owe to you as my fan- and more importantly, my _friend_."

We sealed the promise with a handshake. Not many people besides Mom saw potential in me, so I'd always be grateful for Akira-san for doing so, and treasure her as my first true friend.

* * *

 **Skill:** Retake. Reduce Influence Gauge penalty from a wrong answer.

 **Akira's Undergarments** : A generic non-name brand pair of briefs. According to Azuki, you won't be able to tell if these are hers.

Here's the first of the Side C Free Time Events, showing a perspective reversal- now Nagato is spending time with Azuki. The Free Time Events for anyone who were alive at the end of Chapter III will take place in the killing game, while those who died by the end of Chapter III (Azuki, Kojima, Mihama, Taiga, Tsukimura and Yamazaki), will take place in Cruise Mode.

Some people complained about Shuichi's Free Time Events with Kaede being too "fanservicey," and focusing on their relationship, so I mainly focused on Azuki's acting career. There are some bits about her friendship with Nagato, particularly Nagato being a fan of Magical Girl Sakura, and how they both lost their fathers, but it isn't the primary focus.

As for Azuki, one aspect that's sometimes touched upon is that she's a big fan of Shakespeare, which I referenced in several ways- her birthday (the Ides of March), her occasionally thinking about Shakespeare's work, her last words (from Hamlet), and her execution.


	21. Free Time Events: Yukari Nagato (Side C)

**Free Time Events: Yukari Nagato (Side C)**

_Spoiler Alert: Chapter III Victim and Culprit_

**EVENT 1: I asked Mom about why I was invited to Talent High School, a question virtually no one else has asked.**

I met up with Mom. Since we'd had all sorts of conversations as mother and daughter over the years, we both knew each other quite well by now. However, there was one thing I'd been dying to ask her ever since I got into Talent High School.

"I'd like to know something, Mom," I said. "How exactly did you convince the board to pick me as the Ultimate Tech Support?"

Mom sighed. Maybe the way I'd worded the question suggested that I didn't know what was going on, or she was uncomfortable with how I'd brazenly asked the question, but this was one thing she hadn't expected to hear out of my mouth.

"You may not believe me," Mom said, "but I've never been asked that question before. Out of all of the beneficiaries of Talent High School's preferential treatment to relatives, you're the only one I know of who's asked about why you were chosen."

"Really?" I said. "Surely others like me must have been curious."

Mom shook her head. For a moment, I thought that the others were intelligent enough to understand everything without needing an explanation, but then I remembered that Mom had once said that assuming that you understood something was evidence of a closed mind, rather than wisdom.

"Curiosity is human nature," Mom said, "but at the same time, learning new things often involves facing harsh truths, especially when it comes to oneself, which is why so many choose to shut their eyes and close their ears. To use an analogy, imagine that you found an envelope full of money laying on the ground one day. What would you do?"

"I'd turn it in to the police," I said. "After all, someone probably lost it, so it wouldn't be right to just pocket it."

"That's the right answer," Mom said, "but some people would never question their good fortune, pocket the money and be on their way. They wouldn't think too hard about where the money came from, or where it was going- maybe it was 'earned' by dealing drugs, or was meant to be donated to charity. Doing so would force them to think about what they'd done, and consider that maybe they were wrong, so they choose to stay in blissful ignorance until they're confronted with the consequences of their actions."

Mom's point was clear. Reality doesn't change just because you can't face harsh truths. I wasn't able to vote for Akira-san in the third trial, but she was the one who was considered responsible for Mihama-san's death. She wasn't a murderer, but she was executed as one anyway.

"Because of that, Chiyuri, I'd like to confirm whether you're ready to hear the full story," Mom said, "and since it's a long one, I'd rather not tell it right now. Think this over, and once you're ready, come back and ask me again."

"I will, Mom," I said.

I said goodbye to Mom for now. While Mom and I didn't have any secrets, there were still things we didn't find easy to talk about. The killing game had forced me to confront many uncomfortable truths, so maybe it was time to find out why I was at the school in the first place.

* * *

**EVENT 2: In preparation for telling me about my admission Mom told me the story about the school's founding, and how it sought to find Ultimates that Hope's Peak overlooked.**

I returned to Mom, having resolved to hear the truth.

"Have you made up your mind, Chiyuri?" Mom said.

"I'm ready, Mom," I said. "I'd like to hear the story behind how I became Ultimate Tech Support... even if it is a long one."

Mom smiled upon hearing my answer. After a moment, she began the story.

"All right," Mom said. "The reason why it's a long one is that it goes all the way back to when Talent High School was founded. This time, I'll start off by telling you about the school, before where you come in."

I nodded. Since the school was twice as old as I was, it was likely before my time. Mom, who was 40, was in elementary school when the school was founded, and thus likely hadn't heard much about it until she was almost an adult.

"Talent High School was founded for the sake of recognizing and nurturing talents that otherwise wouldn't be noticed by Hope's Peak," Mom said. "While Hope's Peak has a dedicated staff of talent scouts, some gifted high schoolers fall through the cracks."

"Like who?" I said.

"A few types," Mom said. "The first are those in emerging fields, often high-tech ones- for example, the first class of Talent High School had the Ultimate Roboticist. The second are those in fields in which excellence is not often recognized- tech support comes to mind. The third is people who are talented but not famous enough to succeed- like the Ultimate Fashion Designer- or who otherwise fall short of Hope's Peak's standards. Hope's Peak takes a few dozen students per year, but that still leaves many exceptionally talented ones for us."

I recalled that the Ultimate Fashion Designer, a woman a few years younger than Mom, was a relative unknown until Talent High School had found her. With the recognition her title had given her, her career really took off, and her designs were worn by models all over Japan, including Junko Enoshima, who was also Ultimate material.

"The first headmaster of the school had a cousin who had tried to become an actress, but failed," Mom said. "She had talent, but she was unable to impress the right people. As they say, it's often not a matter of what you know, but who you know."

"So that's why he decided to found the school?" I said.

"Basically, yes," Mom said. "In the first few years, the school accepted applications from talented individuals seeking recognition in their fields, and granted those who sufficiently impressed the talent scouts admission to the school. Of course, applicants who were related to the administration had a leg up on those who were not."

"But what about everyone else?" I said. "If there was that many people applying, then surely the school would have many different Ultimates in a variety of fields?"

Mom shook her head. Talent High School had always been fairly small compared to Hope's Peak, and for the longest time, I'd assumed that it simply wasn't as well-known, especially shortly after its establishment.

"Not exactly," Mom said, "and there were a few reasons for that. First, Talent High School was not well-known at this point, so there were not as many applicants as there are now... allthough there were far more than the school had room for. Second, of those applicants, many of them competed for similar positions, such as star athletes, musicians or actors and actresses. Third, as I just mentioned, many of those individuals did not have enough skill to earn a scholarship, much less be recognized as the best. Because the school received many applications from unqualified students, it had no choice but to end the application system and focus on searching for the Ultimates who gained their attention. Prospective Ultimates could reach out to the school to request entry, but such requests are generally ignored; if Talent High School is interested in a student, it will contact them."

"So much for the school's original purpose," I said.

"Yes, it was more than a little hypocritical of them," Mom said, "but there are many times when people must compromise their principles, whether to do what is right purely for the sake of expediency. In spite of that, they did leave a door open to people connected to the school's administration, enabling those who weren't recognized to receive a title."

I noticed that Mom conspicuously avoided using the word "earn" in that sentence. Despite that, she struck me as far less cynical than one would expect of someone aware of how Talent High School worked. Mom was by no means naïve, but she also didn't fully believe that the ends justified the means, and I was glad for that.

"This is where you come in, Chiyuri," Mom said. "Once again, if you'd like to continue hearing this story, we'll pick up where we left off next time. You may have some idea of what the answers would be, but if you would still like to hear them, I am willing to tell you."

I nodded.

"Well, it's not as though being ignorant will change anything," I said. "Besides, even if I can guess it, I might end up being wrong about it, so it'd be unwise to make assumptions."

"Good to hear that," Mom said. "We've talked for a while now, so I'll save the part that concerns you for next time. Take some time to digest what I've told you, and see me again when you're ready."

I left Mom once again, having learned much about the school I'd chosen to attend, but fully aware that it was only the beginning. If this was a story, then what I'd heard just now was mere exposition, meant to establish the setting, the characters and the conflict, and we had yet to face the first plot twist. If this story continued, I'd inevitably have to hear uncomfortable truths that would relate to me, but would I be ready?

* * *

**EVENT 3: Dad and I were beneficiaries of Talent High School's nepotism, in various ways. Of course, even if you get an opportunity through connections, that doesn't necessarily mean you don't deserve it.**

I met up with Mom again. She could probably tell that I was ready to continue where we'd left off, but I decided to make that absolutely clear to her.

"I'm ready to hear more, Mom," I said, "specifically, the part that applies to me."

"All right, Chiyuri," Mom said, "but before I get to you, I'd like to mention your father. As you know, Shou-san earned his claim to fame by tutoring classmates who were studying for entrance exams, becoming the Ultimate Tutor. While he became fairly well-known and well-respected among his peers at his middle school, he did not achieve the fame necessary to become an Ultimate at a school like Hope's Peak. That's where Talent High School came in."

I remembered what Mom had said last time, and concluded that Dad was probably a case of Category #3- obscure but talented Ultimates. His only chance of being noticed was to tutor a relative of a famous and influential person- possibly one of Talent High School's board members- and impress both that person and their well-connected relative enough to be recommended, or to be so good that word of mouth would reach the board. Both of those were dubious propositions at best, so it was fortunate for him that the chairman already knew about his talent.

"The process began when your father was formally recommended by his father, the chairman of the board," Mom said. "Technically, anyone can recommend someone as an Ultimate candidate for Talent High School, but it's generally disregarded unless the person making the recommendation is connected to Talent High School, or the recommendee is particularly famous in the field in question- for example, Azuki-san might be recommended by a director. Of course, when the chairman speaks, people listen."

"So was Dad a shoo-in for Talent High School because Grandp-er, the Chairman wanted him?" I said.

"Not quite," Mom said, "because Shou-san still had to demonstrate his talent in front of the board, and show at least a passing proficiency in it. Of course, it is possible to fake it- an idol singer can lip sync, while a horror writer can have a 'ghost' writer... no pun intended."

I chuckled at Mom's obvious lie. She obviously didn't spin many puns while around the students, but she nevertheless had a fondness for that kind of joke. Of course, the Ultimate Horror Writer, a girl a year older than me, was apparently skilled enough that she didn't need any help to earn her title.

"Your father passed his test," Mom said, "and while he did acknowledge that his connections played a part, he believed that he earned his title. Having seen him in action, I'm sure that his belief was well-founded."

I nodded. At this point, I could only take Mom's word for it, but since I trusted her, that wasn't too much to ask. Perhaps if I'd grown up with Dad helping me with my homework, I could see how he'd earned his title. Of course, if he was still alive, and I was a legitimate child, I don't think I'd have ever come to Talent High School... or would I?

"Me too," I said, "but what about me?"

"For you, it's a bit more complicated," Mom said. "As part of the deal I made with the chairman in return for not naming Shou-san as your father, they would grant you admission to Talent High School, provided that you demonstrated proficiency in a certain area. If you had not, you would have been admitted to the Reserve Course free of charge, a privilege granted to the children of all faculty and staff."

While the Reserve Course existed to earn the school money, and it was smaller, cheaper and older than Hope's Peak's Academy's counterpart, it could afford a few students tuition-free every year. That was a good thing, since it was far too expensive for Mom, who earned a decent salary for a teacher but didn't have money to burn.

"But then, you demonstrated a talent for helping your classmates with tech-related problems," Mom said. "I was proud of you, and hoped that you would be recognized for what you could do for others, rather than why you were born. So then I formally recommended you, and they agreed to bring you in for an interview. After the interview, they decided to invite you to the school."

"What about Asakura?" I said.

Mom furrowed her brow disapprovingly. She'd been strict when it came to teaching me manners while I was growing up, but now was not the time for a lecture. Besides, I'd learned her lessons well enough, and simply made an exception for the one person who had never showed me any respect- in fact, Asakura probably needed a lesson of his own.

"Apparently, Asakura- _san_ was recommended at the same time," Mom said, "but coincidentally, he happened to be aiming for the same title as you. It was too late for either of us to find an alternative, so apparently the school chose to admit both of you after you demonstrated your talents."

So that explained why Asakura had gotten the same title I had. His personality aside, I still thought he had a greater claim to the title than I did, although Akira-san would vehemently disagree. Recalling all the times Akira-san had badmouthed Asakura and defended me brought a nostalgic smile to my face, and made me miss her even more.

"So that's the entire story," Mom said. "You were granted this opportunity because you are Shou-san's daughter, and to a lesser extent, because, I vouched for you. You earned your title because you managed to prove to the board that it was worth taking you on."

"I see," I said. "Would they have noticed me if I were an ordinary person, rather than the chairman's granddaughter?"

Mom sighed and shook her head.

"Probably not," Mom said, "but I doubt they would have found any other Ultimate Tech Supports besides you and Asakura-san this year. In the end, it was the headmistress and the board's decision- who to interview and who to invite- and I, at the very least, think they made the right decision."

I wasn't sure how to feel. On the one hand, they hadn't just chosen me because of my parentage. On the other hand, admission to the school was based entirely on the judgments- or perhaps whims- of a cabal of six people with their own interests. Maybe the question I should be asking wasn't whether my Ultimate title had any meaning, but whether _anyone's_ did.

It was easy to dismiss Talent High School and Hope's Peak's handing out titles to outstanding young teenagers (as well as not-so-outstanding ones in the former's case) as quaint, but the truth was that it was necessary to earn others' recognition. You needed to impress admissions officers and prospective employers to get into schools or companies, which involved getting good grades, letters of recommendation, and everything else you needed for an edge on the competition. Even friendships involved impressing your friends, which meant that people who had some trait that the majority viewed as undesirable would end up ostracized; only the loneliness I felt while alone and the happiness being friends with Akira-san had given me had prevented me from giving up on friendship entirely. Likewise, the fact that I was a mediocre student with no special talents had led me to accept Talent High School's offer. I had no right to judge the others who'd taken a similar route to the school, but something was still bothering me, a question that would not let me rest until I had an answer...

* * *

**EVENT 4: Mom realizes that things didn't always go as she intended, and deeply regrets that. As a result, she's second-guessing her decision to work for Talent High School.**

I met up with Mom again. While I'd heard the complete history of Talent High School's admissions system, and how I'd gotten in, I didn't feel as though I'd gotten the entire story.

"Hello, Chiyuri," Mom said. "I've told you everything about how you got chosen as the Ultimate Tech Support, but if you have any other questions about that subject, I'll try to answer them."

I nodded, and sat down. After a moment, I realized what was still bothering me after everything Mom had told me.

"There's something I'd like to know about Talent High School," I said, "related to how you got hired as a teacher as part of the deal with the chairman. Did you know what sort of school you were getting into when you agreed to work for the school?"

"Sadly, not entirely," Mom said. "Shou-san believed that he hadn't been given any favors, and that while he'd been given the opportunity, he'd earned his spot in class. Naturally, since he was a student, and someone I'd come to love and trust, I believed him, too."

Mom's voice carried a twinge of regret, like someone who had gotten roped into a con by Karita-san or one of his kind.

"Do you think Dad lied about that?" I said.

"Not to me," Mom said. "I think that Shou-san didn't want to accept that he hadn't earned his opportunity. His goal was to put his title to use and become a teacher who would one day change Talent High School, making its Main Course more inclusive and giving a better education to all students, regardless of whether they were Ultimates. Of course, he never lived to see that happen..."

Mom wiped away a tear. It had been over sixteen years since Dad died- or rather, eighteen, when I considered the years I'd forgotten- but like an old wound, the pain hadn't faded yet.

"But in any case," Mom said, "I agreed to work at the school believing that my work would be for the good of all students, not just the children and relatives of those who founded it. That may be why I seem a bit idealistic compared to my colleagues, and why I saw nothing wrong with accepting their offer."

I shook my head.

"I'm not so sure, Mom," I said. "You may not have known what you were getting into, but you were a proper teacher to those students. After all, even talented students need a good teacher like you to help them in all the other areas, and you're the best one I know of."

"Thank you, Chiyuri," Mom said. "Hearing you say that means a lot to me."

I nodded, and decided to put the subject to rest for good. Now that I understood everything about how I'd come here, I could focus on getting everyone who was still left home. I didn't know what the future held for our school, but I had no desire for the final class to shrink any further.

* * *

**EVENT 5: The future is uncertain, but Mom hopes to continue being a teacher. It's a noble profession, and I hope to follow in her path.**

I had yet another meeting with Mom. While we had finished talking about why I was admitted, but there was still one last thing I wanted to discuss.

"So, Mom," I said. "If we get out of here, what are you going to do?"

"I'm honestly not sure," Mom said. "Ordinarily, I'd like to return to work and help you get back to school, but Talent High School may no longer exist."

I winced and nodded. While getting back to our old lives was the least of our worries, the prospect of everything we'd known being destroyed was almost as disturbing as the idea of dying here.

"That might be true," I said, "but I'd like you to forget that for a minute, and tell me what you want to do. Like you tell the students when it comes to career counseling, they should include their dream job, even if it isn't all that feasible."

"In that case, I would like to go back to teaching," Mom said. "Talent High School may not have been founded with a noble purpose, but those who pass through its gates still need an education, and it's up to teachers like me to give it to them. I don't plan on diverging from that path."

"That's good," I said. "I'd personally like to work for a school like that, but I don't know if I'm good enough."

"I'm sure you have it in you, Chiyuri," Mom said. "If you work hard and better yourself, you'll become a good math teacher someday, and may be hired at Talent High School."

I nodded. Math was my only strong subject, but maybe I could teach that to students. Even if I wasn't a real tech support professional, I was always happy to give guidance to people who needed it, and maybe being a teacher would enable me to do that.

"That might be nice," I said, "although I'd have to call you 'Nagato-sensei'."

"As would I,' Mom said, "and that would make me happy, to be able to acknowledge my daughter as a fellow teacher and an equal."

"I'll do my best, Nagato-sensei," I said.

I felt reassured knowing that Mom believed in me. Her life had become a great deal harder ever since I was born, because she had to raise me alone and endure the stigma of being an unwed mother, so I'd always wanted to ease her burden and make her proud of me. I wasn't nearly there yet, but Mom's belief that I could make it inspired me to try even harder in the hopes of one day vindicating her beliefs and repaying her for everything she did for me.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

This Free Time Events provides some backstory on Chiyuri, particularly how she managed to get into Talent High School, as well as a little bit about Yukari's feelings about her employer. It's fairly exposition-heavy, but it also is meant to provide some worldbuilding and reveal more about how Talent High School operates, as well as deconstruct the idea of an invitation-based school.

As you can see, the C in "Side C" is short for Chiyuri, and was partly inspired by Celeste's alternate sides.


	22. Free Time Events: Satoshi Karita (Side C)

**Free Time Events: Satoshi Karita (Side C)**

**EVENT 1: Karita-san sees me as naïve and gullible. Despite that, he doesn't see himself scamming me, albeit not out of any scruples.**

_Spoiler Alert: More implicit Chapter III spoilers, but they're here._

Karita-san and I spent a little time together, making small talk.

"I've got to say, Nagato-san, I'm amazed," Karita-san said. "Didn't your mother warn you not to hang out with guys like me?"

"Mom did give me advice to that effect," I said, 'but she's also confident that I'm moral enough to avoid being corrupted, and intelligent enough to not get roped into a scam, so she trusts my judgment."

Karita-san let off an unnerving chuckle. If I was asked about what someone like him would find funny, my first guess would be people foolishly revealing one their weaknesses to them, and it seemed I was right on th emoney.

"That's a dangerous mindset to have," Karita-san said, "since a lot of people who think they're smart- regardless of whether they actually _are_ smart- are prone to getting overconfident. You'd do well to not overestimate how clever you are when dealing with people like me."

"I appreciate the warning, Karita-san," I said, "but it's strange that you'd warn someone like me, the type that you'd see as a promising mark."

Karita-san grinned and shook his head.

"Hardly," Karita-san said. "There isn't much of a chance of you buying whatever I'm 'selling,' so it's not as though I'm letting a potential cash cow slip through my fingers."

"What do you mean?" I said. "Didn't you just say I was naïve enough to be a potential target?"

"Yes, I did," Karita-san said, "but while I meant that, I also don't think you're likely to get snared by a con artist. Think of it this way- you're the kind who's likely to end up falling into any trap, but not the kind who's likely to be lured in by the bait."

Karita-san left me to think about what he'd just said. His behavior was oddly altruistic for a criminal who manipulated people, so I had to wonder if he was setting me up for something, or if this was a side of him I'd never expected to see.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Karita-san is a bit cynical about the people he cons, thinking they're greedy and dishonest, too.**

Karita-san told me a little about his old school. It seemed like an ordinary enough place, although it was hard to tell what was real or whether it mattered.

"I've got a question for you, Nagato-san," Karita-san said. "What do you think con artists do?"

"That's easy," I said. "They swindle honest people out of their hard-earned money."

Karita-san laughed out loud.

"Impressive," Karita-san said. "Every word in that sentence was wrong... well, almost every word."

"What do you mean?" I said.

"Let's say that I, posing as a Nigerian princess or someone of the sort, ask you to open a bank account for me," Karita-san said. "My proposal is that by giving me your account details, and having at least a certain sum of money- let's say, 1 million yen- so that I can deposit 1 billion yen for safekeeping, and give you a cut of it- 100 million yen- as a reward. If you go along with it, you're clearly out to make a quick buck, or maybe you're planning to double-cross me and take my entire fortune. Either way, there's nothing 'honest' or 'hard-earned' about the money you seek... just like with the people who end up conning you."

I didn't know what to say to that for a moment. Perhaps Karita-san was rationalizing his actions by believing that his victims were as morally bankrupt as he was, or maybe he thought that the world was so cutthroat that the ends justified the means. Whatever his reasons, it did explain why he didn't think he could easily con me.

"Maybe not," I said. "But most transactions involve mutual benefit, and the con artist is the only one who stands to gain here."

"That they do," Karita-san said. "In fact, I thought you'd say that, which is part of the reason why I didn't think you'd be a good mark. You're the kind to sell your skills for a wage, and earn a living through hard work. Because of that, you'd never get suckered into a deal of dubious legality just for some cash."

"I'm glad you think so," I said. "All I want is to provide for myself and my family, and if possible, put money aside for things such as a dinner out every now and then, my children's education and retirement."

"Good plan," Karita-san said. "In fact, I do the same thing."

"I'm sure you do," I said, "and maybe the same goes for some of the people you ended up defrauding."

Karita-san was taken off guard for a moment, somethin I wasn't expecting. If he truly had a conscience, he wouldn't have taken his career this far, but

"I don't doubt that," Karita-san said, "but that doesn't change that those people made bad decisions, which always have consequences. I should know, after all."

Karita-san let the conversation drop, refusing to elaborate on his final remark. He'd struck me as remarkably forthcoming, but many people had secrets that they weren't telling those they'd only recently met- or anyone. I knew that quite well, after all, which was why I wasn't nearly ready to share some of my deepest and most personal secrets. Some people would be hurt that their friends didn't trust them enough, but Karita-san would probably call my attitude prudent.

* * *

**EVENT 3: Karita-san thiks people like Akira-san are also liars. It's the product of a rather cynical worldview that judges everyone for the lies and half-truths we tell on a daily basis.**

Karita-san taught me a bit more about the various types of cons. He mainly focused on the better-known cons, the kind that "only an idiot would fall for," and said that the better ones were "trade secrets." I think he could tell from my skeptical expression that I wasn't entirely sure he knew anything that the average con artist wouldn't.

"I have a confession, Nagato-san," Karita-san said. "I might be the Ultimate Con Artist, but when it comes to lying, I'm nowhere near the best in my trade."

What Karita-san was saying wasn't too surprising. While talented people generally became famous, others languished in obscurity. As such, there were probably a lot of exceptional young people who would have gotten into Hope's Peak Academy or Talent High School if someone had noticed them.

"Why is that?" I said. "Because Talent High School caught you?"

"Because as far as lies and deceit go, getting people to hand over their hard-earned cash is amateur stuff," Karita-san said. "Many famous people, like poltiicians, actors and business leaders, have fooled the public for years, earning respect and admiration while keeping their more unsavory parts secret."

"Are you saying Akira-san was like that, too?" I said.

"To an extent," Karita-san said. "I mean, we got to know her personality from our interactions with her, but she put on a different face for the public. She had to in order to sell herself as an actress and appeal to people."

I bit my lip, trying to keep my anger in check. Of course, I must have been glaring at Karita-san, since he looked a bit nervous.

"Easy now, Nagato-san," Karita-san said. "I never said I was judging Azuki-san. Like I said, she had to present a false self to others, especially her fans and the media. It was part of her career, just like it's part of mine."

"I guess you're right about that," I said, "but I'd rather you not compare her to yourself."

Karita-san nodded without smiling.

"You're right, there's no comparison," Karita-san said. "Most of us liked Azuki-san- so did I, even if the feeling definitely wasn't mutual- but at this point, I think the best I can hope for is people tolerating me."

"That sounds true enough," I said, "but I notice that while you aren't exactly nice, you don't intentionally antagonize people."

"It's just a matter of practicality," Karita-san said. "I know I'll never be popular, but I don't want any more enemies. Having people who tolerate me is good enough, and I'd rather not anger the people who hate me so much that they snap and try to kill me."

I remembered that Yamazaki-san had tried to kill Karita-san, but I also knew what had happened to him.

"...And risk being executed?" I said. "I know some of us have committed murder, for various reasons, but I don't think a simple grudge was one of them."

"Maybe not," Karita-san said, "but I'd rather not be the first to die for that reason."

Karita-san struck me as fairly pragmatic, and not just because of his seeking personal gain. It didn't justify his lifestyle, but it did make it easier to grasp why he did what he did. In the end, he was motivated by rational desires- survival, earning money and staying out of trouble- and the only thing that set him apart from the others was how far he was willing to go to get those.

* * *

**EVENT 4: Karita-san believes that no one is ever completely honest.**

Karita-san taught me some of the 'tells' liars had, hoping I could use the knowledge to see when I was being deceived. I hoped this skill would become useful in class trials, but knew that if Karita-san ended up killing someone and becoming the blackened, he'd be wise to my tricks.

"I'd like to know something, Karita-san," I said. "Is it possible for anyone to be completely honest?"

"Not completely," Karita-san said, before pointing at his left temple. "All people have countless thoughts inside their heads, but only a small percentage of them actually get expressed. Those that are spoken out loud are filtered, toned down and reprocessed to make them more palatable to whoever's hearing them."

I understood what he was getting at, but didn't like to think of it as cynically. To Mom, good manners weren't just about making yourself likeable to others, but putting your best foot forward; she always said "please" when asking for things because she saw it as a minor effort that made it a bit more palatable to others. I at least wanted to think that I followed in her example, even if a part of me craved the acceptance of my peers.

"Still," Karita-san said, "I do think that it's possible for certain people to be reasonably honest. They may practice discretion and tact in order to deal with others, but they say what they mean and don't intentionally try to be something they aren't. Despite being an actress, Azuki-san was closest to that ideal when off the clock, which is why she never liked me."

"And what about me?" I said. "How honest do I seem to you?"

"It's a bit more complicated," Karita-san said. "I do get the feeling that there's a lot you aren't telling me, but I don't think anything you've said so far has been a lie. I'm not one for trusting anyone unreservedly, but I might just make an exception for you."

I paused, unsure of how to take what he'd just said.

"I must admit that I never thought you'd say something like that, Karita-san," I said. "I didn't think that someone as untrustworthy as you would put any trust in other people... assuming you're telling the truth."

"Think of it what you will," Karita-san said. "I'm just confident that you'll never betray me, or that if you do, I'll see it coming."

So Karita-san still saw life- not just the killing game- as a dog-eat-dog world in which people tried to deceive each other, but in spite of that, also believed I was no threat to him. I would still have to be wary of him, but perhaps I was starting to understand him better.

* * *

**EVENT 5: I may not fully trust Karita-san, but I have enjoyed our time together.**

Karita-san invited me over to his cabin. His half didn't have many decorations, possibly because it wasn't a good idea to have anything that screamed "I'm a con artist!" in his room... even if his title more or less said just that. Of course, no one besides Asakura-san had set foot in his cabin, so it's not as though many people would have the opportunity to feast their eyes on the evidence in his room. Asakura's side was similarly undecorated, and the only thing that stuck out in the cabin was the lines dividing it into thirds- Karita-san's territory, Asakura's territory and the neutral zone.

"I've been thinking about what we've discussed earlier, Karita-san," I said, "and I'm not so sure that I'm as honest as you think."

"Why's that?" Karita-san said.

"You once said that you're polite to others so they won't hate you," I said. "In my case, that's how I've acted for much of my life, because... people often have a negative first impression of me. I do try to act kindly, but part of it is so that I can get people to like me. In reality, I'm a self-absorbed person who wallows in her own misery; Akira-san was the first death I truly felt sad about."

Karita-san furrowed his brow. I hadn't told him that I was an illegitimate child, since he was the last person I wanted to entrust with that information, but I wondered if he had his suspicions. If he did, he didn't share them.

"So it's as I thought," Karita-san said. "Nothing you've said to me is a lie, but you haven't told the _whole_ truth, either."

"That's about it," I said. "There's some things that I've only told my mom, a few things that I've shared with Akira-san before she died, and some things I haven't told _anyone_. In other words, things I'm not nearly ready to tell you right now, if ever."

"Got it," Karita-san said. "Well, Nagato-san, maybe I'm not the right person to tell you 'You can tell me anything,' but I can promise to hear you out without judging you. Deal?"

I paused, and then tentatively shook Karita-san's hand, saying, "Deal." I wasn't sure whether I'd ever understand Karita-san, or whether his offer of friendship was genuine. That said, I did feel as though I'd learned a lot about him, and hoped that one day, he'd tell me everything else there was to know about him.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Some of Chiyuri's Free Time Events will discuss different aspects of the student's character than Azuki's do. While Azuki's discusses Karita's perspective on lying, this reveals more about Karita's relationships with others.

As you can see, there's no specific order for Chiyuri's Free Time Events, which will likely come out in a different order from Azuki's FTEs.


	23. Free Time Events: Taiga Tachibana (Side C)

**Free Time Events: Taiga Tachibana (Side C)**

**EVENT 1: Taiga-san is interested in how I get along with Nagato-sensei. After all, she once was in a similar situation.**

I struck up a conversation with Taiga-san about how things were going right now. Taiga-san had a few things she wanted to discuss with our teacher.

"Thank you for sharing, Tachibana-san," I said. "I'll pass it along to Mom...er, Nagato-sensei."

Taiga-san chuckled.

"You don't have to call your mom that when you're around me," Taiga-san said. "I don't think any of us would judge you for calling her 'Mom'."

"Maybe not," I said, "but it's a matter of principle; namely, showing that I don't expect special treatment just because I'm her daughter."

Mom had made a deal with me. In order to get me into the habit of showing her respect, I would have to call her "Nagato-sensei" all the time while at school. If I was able to do so consistently, she offered to relax the rules, and let me call her "Mom" when we were alone at school. For now, though, she wasn't going to bend on the rules.

"Fair enough," Taiga-san said, "but I think there are a few groups of people at this school. The first group is skeptical of you, and needs some proof that you can show Nagato-sensei the respect she deserves. The second group, like me, either don't care what you call her, or don't think you have to treat her any differently than usual. The third group probably won't change its mind under any circumstances, and will probably think Nagato-sensei plays favorites with you, even if she doesn't."

"I know," I said. "There are always those who, like the third group, cannot be persuaded otherwise. That being said, if I can win over the people in the first group, I will try to do so."

"I wish you the best of luck with that," Taiga-san said, "but please remember that there are those in the second group who accept you unconditionally."

I thanked Taiga-san for the kind words. While she seemed like the shy and timid one of the Tachibana sisters, even she had a certain level of confidence that I lacked. Maybe it was because she had an Ultimate talent, or more people who believed in her- I had my mother, but she had her parents and sister. Perhaps she didn't fully believe in herself, but I could learn a little from her.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Taiga-san having her mother as a teacher presented some unique complications, but in the end, she only had to fulfill her duties, and everything else worked out.**

Taiga-san and I talked about her old school. While statistically speaking, it was quite rare for two Ultimates to come from the same high school, let alone in the same year, there were cases when a talent scout came to a school to investigate one talented student and heard about another while there, essentially catching two bugs in one swing of the net.

"You know, Tachibana-san, I just remembered something you said when we first met," I said. "You said you had your mom as your teacher before you came here, didn't you?"

"That's right," Taiga-san said. "It was back in middle school, for composition class."

"Ah, that's right," I said. "What was it like?"

"Probably a bit like you and Nagato-sensei, I'd imagine," Taiga-san said. "I was a bit of an adjustment to have to call her 'Sensei' or rather than 'Mom.' Mom using our surnames is pretty weird, too, especially when we share them; because of that, she was fine with us just calling her 'Sensei' rather than 'Tachibana-sensei'."

I nodded. There were two Yamadas in my class at my old school, but they apparently weren't related. They did, however, find it a bit awkward having to call each other by their family names, so they became surprisingly good friends.

"I agree," I said. "Of course, in my case, whether I'm dealing with Mom or Nagato-sensei, she's an authority figure, so it's only natural that I'd have to do as I'm told. After all, with about a decade of schooling, I'm used to obeying my teachers."

"Me too," Taiga-san said. "Mom isn't all that strict as a parent, and neither is Tachibana-sensei compared to her fellow faculty members, but my sister and I learned the value of doing what I'm told while I was growing up."

I sensed a note of discomfort in Taiga-san's voice.

"There is one difficult part, though," Taiga-san said. "Namely, having Mom treat me as just another student, treating me with formal professionalism, rather than motherly love. I know I shouldn't take it personally, but it's a bit harder to think of her the same way as the other teachers."

"But in the end, you do treat her that way, right?" I said.

"I do," Taiga-san said. "Her own daughters not respecting her authority would reflect badly on her as a parent and a teacher, so that's why I strive to be a good daughter and a good student, as does my sister. Our efforts weren't lost on our parents; after we got through the year, Mom and Dad took us out to dinner to celebrate."

"That's nice of her," I said. "Mom will probably hold a similar celebration for me once I get through my first year of Talent High School, and again when I graduate. My grades aren't especially good, either, but Mom's sure 'll pass, and with good reason."

Taiga-san smiled, but I could sense that there was a certain other issue on her mind. It wasn't hard to figure out what, so it probably went without saying, but if she ever wanted to talk about it, I was willing to listen.

* * *

**EVENT 3: Working with friends and family can be a complex matter, as Taiga-san and I are well aware.**

Taiga-san told me a little more about her old middle school, which was serious about the rules but wasn't oppressively strict. Mom would probably do well as a teacher there, and Tachibana-sensei would also be a good fit for Talent High School.

"I'm curious about something, Nagato-san," Taiga-san said. "Have you ever gotten into any serious endeavor with your siblings or friends?"

"Unfortunately, no, Tachibana-san," I said. "First, I'm an only child. Second, I haven't had any real friends, at least not before coming here."

Taiga-san seemed a bit sad. She seemed a bit shy, but it seemed as though she'd been more fortunate than I was. Maybe Tatsuki-san had introduced Taiga-san to her friends, or Taiga-san had made some herself, but she was certainly more popular than I had been, not that it was saying much.

"I'm... sorry to hear that," Taiga-san said, "not to mention unsure how to put what I'm about to tell you in a way that would be easy for you to understand."

"Just give it your best shot," I said, smiling encouragingly.

Taiga-san nodded, and after taking a moment to think, proceeded.

"Let's say that Nagato-sensei isn't a teacher, but an owner of a small business," Taiga-san said. "It's, um... a coffee shop, and you're a barista. Are you following me so far?"

I said "I am," much to Taiga-san's relief. Neither of us knew much about the inner workings of coffee shops, but it was as good of a hypothetical example as any.

"Anyway, your job is to make cups of coffee and serve them to the customers," Taiga-san said. "If you give customers a bad cup, or if you offend them, your coffee shop's reputation will suffer and you'll lose business. If you can't do your job well, then it'd be in Nagato-sensei's best interests to replace you with someone else who can, even if you're her daughter."

"Absolutely," I said. "It wouldn't be a very pleasant decision, but I know she'd do what she'd must. In order to keep it from coming to that, I'd do my best."

I thought about my mom's job as a teacher. Talent High School rarely expelled students unless they were guilty of severe offenses, like one student in the year ahead of me. The decision wasn't up to Nagato-sensei, but if I did something that warranted being kicked out of school, she'd report me to the headmistress, who would almost certainly show me the door.

"Good answer," Taiga-san said, "but what if your best isn't good enough?"

"Then I guess Mom would probably call me in to discuss my performance," I said, "and if I couldn't improve, I'd probably be fired. If it came to that, I'd realize that it wouldn't be any easier on Mom than it would be on me, and accept the decision gracefully."

"I'm sure you would," Taiga-san said. "I hope I could do the same if I ended up in that situation."

I paused for a moment, wondering how Taiga-san might end up working with a family member. Just as the answer occurred to me, Taiga-san changed the subject.

"In any case," Taiga-san said, "while my sister and I are not very good students, we attend class, do our homework and get passing grades, fulfilling all our academic obligations. Mom probably wishes we could do better, but Tachibana-sensei has no complaints, nor any reason to believe we're angling for special treatment, so she's satisfied with that."

"That's the first I've heard about your grades," I said.

"Well, as you can tell, we're not exactly keen on bragging about them," Taiga-san said. "They haven't exactly gotten any better since Dragon Girl took off, but our parents say that as long as we pass all our classes, we can keep on doing music."

Once again, I was reminded that if school was a race, there were those who competed for first place and those who, like me, could barely cross the finish line. I'd never expected that any of the Ultimates, even those whose talents lay outside of school, were fellow members of the latter group, but Taiga-san was the exception. Both of us were individuals living in the shadow of more talented family members, so her insecurity was unsurprising... and all too familiar.

* * *

**EVENT 4: Taiga wants to be sure that she's of use to her sister. She's more than proven herself by now, and I hope she understands this.**

Taiga-san asked me about the times I took part in group assignments in class. Since my grades weren't the best, my classmates weren't especially thrilled to have me, but the more understanding ones did concede that I had a good work ethic and was a strong team player.

"I'd like to know something, Taiga-san," I said. "The last time we spoke, you were thinking about your sister, weren't you?"

"Quite perceptive, Nagato-san," Taiga-san said. "While I was talking about my mother, both my sister and I knew that if we passed our classes- not an unreasonable assumption, even considering our grades- we'd move up a year. As for my sister, however, Dragon Girl is quite possibly the most important thing she'll ever do."

"But she's doing well so far, isn't she?" I said.

"So far," Taiga-san said. "Success is never guaranteed to last in the music world, even for a performer of her caliber, since it's possible that someone will upstage her, or the public will get sick of her. Because of that, and because she's so talented on her own, I can't tell whether I'm helping her or dragging her down."

I shook my head. Some people got in through family connections, but only those who were related to the school's leadership.

"If you weren't, I don't think the school would have acknowledged you as the Ultimate Songwriter," I said. "I think I once read a review of someone who did a cover of one of your sister's songs- I think it was Breathing Fire, right?"

"That sounds familiar," Taiga-san said. "Personally, it's one of the songs I'm most proud of."

"I'm glad to hear it," I said. "Anyway, the review was not very flattering."

"Wh-Why?" Taiga-san said, looking crestfallen.

"It didn't have anything to do with _you,"_ I said. "It said that the performer wasn't nearly as good as your sister, and more importantly, that she failed to capture the energy behind your song. Your lyrics and melody were said to be the only good thing about the performance, and the problem was that the person performing them didn't do them justice."

Taiga's eyes lit up.

"Really?" Taiga-san said. "Where was this?"

"In the local paper," I said. "I've long since recycled it, but if we get out of here, we can look it up online."

Taiga-san asked me for my paper's name, and the name of the person who performed the cover of her song, and wrote both down. Since it was clear she didn't just take my word for it, I decided to drive my point home.

"In any case," I said, "my point is that people do take notice of the work that you do, even if it's less apparent than your sister. Your sister's a great performer, but she'd have never gotten this far without an equally great songwriter."

"I'm glad you think so, Nagato-san," Taiga-san said. "Any time I ever start wondering whether my sister only keeps me around out of pity, I'll think back to what you and that article you mentioned said.

I smiled, relieved. Taiga-san's belief in her inferiority wouldn't go away overnight, but I hoped that I could foster a healthy sense of confidence in her, one that I hoped to eventually possess myself.

* * *

**EVENT 5: Taiga-san**

Taiga-san invited me back to her cabin.

"Thank you for coming, Nagato-san," Taiga-san said. "I spoke with my sister, and she agreed to let us have some time alone."

"That's good," I said. "As close as Mom and I are, we aren't joined at the hip all the time, either."

"In my case, there's a bit more to it," Taiga-san said. "My sister recognizes that even though we were born at almost the same time, we're our own people and do our own things. Because of that, she told me that she only wants me as her songwriter under two conditions. The first is that I must be up to the job which is her way of saying that she doesn't just take me on out of pity. The second is that I must want to do the job, and enjoy doing it."

"Fair enough," I said. "So, Tachibana-san, are you happy with your songwriting career?"

Taiga-san smiled and nodded.

"I am," Taiga-san said. "If my sister needs me, I'm happy to help. I want her to succeed, and I'm glad that I played a role in her success."

"Good for you," I said. "As for me, I don't know what I can do to be of use to my mom, so I'm a bit jealous of you."

Taiga-san sighed and shrugged, before adopting a more reassuring expressing.

"I don't know what advice I can give to you," Taiga-san said, "but if you try your hardest and be the best person you can be, I think that she'll be proud of you, just as my mom and sister are of me."

"Thank you, Tachibana-san," I said. "That means a lot coming from you."

We shook hands, having come to realize how much we had in common, and becoming friends in the process. Maybe there wasn't anything Taiga-san and I could work on together, but I felt I'd be happy having such a trustworthy friend by my side.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Since Cruise Mode, the setting for Chiyuri's Free Time Events with the first six students to die, does not involve Monokuma hijacking the trip, Chiyuri's mother remain the official chaperone and still insists on being called "Nagato-sensei."

While this Free Time Events chain focuses on Taiga's sense of inadequacy compared to her sister, I decided to approach it from a slightly different angle, and also go into Chiyuri's similar situation.


	24. Free Time Events: Kanae Tsukimura (Side C)

**Free Time Events: Kanae Tsukimura (Side C)**

**EVENT 1: Tsukimura-san is fascinated by my talent despite- or rather, because- of how humble it is.**

Tsukimura-san eagerly asked me questions about working tech support. I educated her to the best of my ability since, as I put it at one point, answering questions was essentially my job.

"I'd like to ask you something, Tsukimura-san," I said. "Why are you so interested in my talent? I'm sure the talents of people like Sasaki-san or Azuki-san make for much more interesting conversations."

"Sayuri-chan told me about being a manga artist," Tsukimura-san said. "As for Azuki-san, while I do plan on speaking with her, too, I feel like I have some idea of what it's like to be an actress from reading celebrity gossip."

"I don't know about that," I said. "It would be a big opportunity to speak with an actress herself, and hear what she has to say without it being filtered through the media."

Tsukimura-san paused, seeming unconvinced. I wasn't sure whether she knew about how the tabloids and other publications were out to sell magazines, and weren't always above twisting the truth, but if she did, it was probably beside the point.

"Maybe," Tsukimura-san said, "but to answer your original question, I was actually the most interested in your talent because out of all the ones in this class, it's the simplest and humblest one."

"I guess that makes sense coming from the Ultimate Handmaiden," I said. "I suppose Asakura-san, the real Ultimate Tech Support, refused to talk with you?"

"He didn't refuse me outright," Tsukimura-san said, "but he gave terse or vague answers, and seemed to be avoiding most of my questions; I'd have preferred it if he'd politely said no. As far as I'm concerned, if you're willing to speak with me, you're more deserving of the title."

I smiled. Tsukimura-san didn't know anything about my family apart from my being Nagato-sensei's daughter, but she made her judgments based on what she observed herself, rather than what she heard from others.

"I see," I said. "Well, then please let me know if you want to know anything else about my job."

"Yes, ma'am," Tsukimura-san said. "I'll let you know if I think of any other questions."

I giggled softly as I agreed to answer questions for Tsukimura-san, unused to being shown the same respect I commonly showed to others.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Tsukimura-san's job is a relatively humble profession that is of use to people. She hopes to repay her debt to the Himemiya family.**

I answered some more of Tsukimura-san's questions about tech support. After we finished, I decided to return the favor and ask her about her talent.

"If you don't mind my asking, Tsukimura-san," I said, "what's it like to be a maid?"

Tsukimura-san paused to think for a moment.

"Let me put it this way, Nagato-san," Tsukimura-san said. "Are you expected to help out around the house?"

"I am," I said. "I have to make my bed and pick up after myself. My mom and I take turns with cooking, taking the trash out and other household chores. My mom handles shopping, laundry, and other tasks, but she tells me how to do them so I can do so by myself."

Tsukimura-san nodded approvingly. I was supposed to be calling Mom "Nagato-sensei" here, but since she wasn't around, and I was talking about her raising me, I was sure it was fine.

"As I got older, I realized how busy my mom was, as a teacher and a parent," I said, "and so I decided to pick up the slack in order to lighten her burden. There are still things that I can't do for myself, or for her, but I handle everything else."

"It sounds as though you understand what my job's all about," Tsukimura-san said. "The Himemiya home is too large for the family to take care of by itself, and requires a professional's touch. By taking care of the house, cooking meals and doing other duties, I, along with the rest of the staff, allow the master more time to run his business, the mistress more time to look after the children, and Himeno-sama and her siblings time to study and work."

I recalled one of my classmates at my old school who had to work part-time after school to help support her family, and couldn't join any clubs. She was lucky that our school let students take part-time jobs if they obtained permission, as well as that clubs weren't mandatory, but that was of little comfort to her. If she and Himemiya-san had switched places, Himemiya-san probably never would have become the Ultimate Archer.

"That's quite a nice service," I said, "but obviously one that not everyone can afford... especially not those providing that service."

Tsukimura-san sadly shook her head. In some ways, life was a zero-sum game, with many of the things we took for granted being made possible by others' sacrifices. Even Tsukimura-san, who gave her time and labor to the Himemiyas, was also a beneficiary of what others gave for people like her.

"Unfortunately, no," Tsukimura-san said, "but while the Himemiyas are incredibly wealthy, their assets aren't limited to money and property. They also wield significant influence, enabling them to obtain significant favors, and have a large network of well-connected associates. My family, who serves theirs in order to repay a generations-old debt, is one such example, even if we aren't the most powerful."

"So you're also working to pay off that debt, aren't you?" I said.

"I am," Tsukimura-san said, "both my family's debt and my personal debt to them for taking me in after my parents died. I may never be able to fully repay either, but I'll never give up on working towards those goals."

Tsukimura-san's feelings were familiar to me, since I owed everything to my mother. Of course, while I couldn't help but envy how she had something she was good at, not to mention a career lined up, surely she could do so much more with her life than simply serving the Himemiyas.

* * *

**EVENT 3: Tsukimura-san's employers are relatively compassionate and understanding, but are her superiors, not her friends or family.**

I did some roleplaying with Tsukimura-san, in which I pretended to be her maid, by following her orders and calling her "Kanae-sama."

"I'm amazed, Nagato-san," Tsukimura-san said. "You must get some difficult customers."

"Technically Kanae-sama, I'm not an actual tech support professional just yet," I said, "so I don't have any experience with that. The administration of Talent High School believed I had potential, though, which is why they granted me the title."

I'd heard that those who judged prospective Ultimates did so realizing that said individuals might not be at their peak just yet, and the purpose of schools like Talent High School and Hope's Peak was to help the students continue to grow.

"What about you?" I said. "Do your employers often make your job harder, like leaving difficult messes to clean up?"

Tsukimura-san laughed out loud and shook her head.

"Not at all," Tsukimura-san said. "The Himemiyas are very strict about teaching their children to pick up after themselves. By most people's standards, Himeno-sama is a a 'neat freak,' and she doesn't ask me to do anything she can do for herself."

"Do you think she's being considerate of you?" I said.

"I know that she is," Tsukimura-san said. "She feels bad if I work too hard, and wished I could join her on the archery team, rather than going straight home to clean. I know I couldn't keep up with her if I did, but I appreciated the invitation."

For a moment, I considered asking if Tsukimura-san ever wanted to hang out with friends after school, but her school probably didn't allow her to make stops on the way home. I'd gotten called into the office and questioned about stopping by Talent High School to meet up with Mom, so stopping by a diner or the mall with friends(if I had any) would have been out of the question.

"And what about the rest of the family?" I said.

Tsukimura-san sighed.

"It's... complicated," Tsukimura-san said. "The madam- Himeno-sama's mother- took me in because she was friends with my late mother, and tries to treat me like one of her children. However, Himeno-sama's father and siblings see me as just another servant. They treat me well, and expect their children to be polite to the staff, but don't consider me an equal."

So in other words, Tsukimura-san's foster family didn't consider her to be part of them. That didn't entirely sit well with me, but Tsukimura-san didn't seem to mind. Since she thought of herself as a Tsukimura, rather than a Himemiya, considering her willingness to carry on her ancestors' service to the Himemiyas, she was probably fine with being the Himemiya's employee rather than their adopted child.

"I think Nagato-sensei would probably do the same for you," I said. "She's not an elitist, but she does believe that certain social relationships- parent and child, teacher and student, and employer and employee, to name a few- are not and will never be equal. You'd have to call her 'mistress' and would probably have to call me 'Miss' or 'Chiyuri-sama,' but she wouldn't work you too hard or ask you to do anything unreasonable."

"You don't seem too happy about that, Chiyuri-sama," Tsukimura-san said, "I mean Nagato-san."

"I think it's reasonable for employers to treat their employees that way," I said. "If I was a servant like you, that's probably the most I'd expect from the family I worked for. Of course, if you worked for my family, or vice versa, I doubt we could ever be friends."

Tsukimura-san nodded somberly.

"I think 'not ever' is an exaggeration," Tsukimura-san said, "but I am glad that we were able to meet as classmates."

I could tell that Tsukimura-san was thinking about Himemiya-san when she said that. The two got along, but perhaps it might have been better if they could have grown up together as ordinary friends, rather than maid and mistress. But did Tsukimura-san really want to change anything about her life?

* * *

**EVENT 4: Tsukimura-san doesn't have many ideas what she can or wants to do besides being a maid, but thinks her talent fits her career goals.**

We talked about careers for a little while. Since Tsukimura-san's grades weren't all that good, she didn't have many options available.

"Out of curiosity, Nagato-san, does Nagato-sensei have any ideas as to what sort of job you should pursue?" Tsukimura-san said.

"Probably something more ambitious than tech support," I said. "She would be happy if I became a teacher like her."

"I'm a bit similar," Tsukimura-san said. "If my parents were alive, they would expect me to follow in their footsteps."

"I thought so," I said, "but do you want to?"

Tsukimura-san paused, thought for a moment, then shrugged.

"I... haven't really thought of it," Tsukimura-san said. "Then again, it's not as though I have a specific dream that my talent or family precludes me from pursuing. As a poor student whose prospects for higher education aren't very good, maybe my best option for a career is working as a maid. If nothing else, at least I have that choice."

I silently concurred. Some Ultimate talents were clearly more desirable than others, and some weren't meant to be long-term careers, but being the best at anything was something to be thankful for.

"What about Himemiya-san?" I said.

"Himeno-sama plans to do archery as long as possible," Tsukimura-san said, "but as an alternative career, she plans to work for some company as an office worker, starting as an entry level job and going as far as her ability takes her."

"She seems confident," I said. "Maybe it's because she achieved success as an archer, and believes she can do whatever she puts her mind to?"

"That's part of it," Tsukimura-san said, "but the main reason is that she wants to earn whatever she gets, rather than have it given to her. She once said that she's in debt to many people- her parents, myself and the other staff, her teachers, and many others, and that while she cannot fully repay those people who've helped her, she can be less dependent on them."

While I wanted to become an independent adult as soon as possible, the more I thought about what I'd have to do to achieve that status- get a job, a place to stay, enough money to pay my bills, and so on and so forth- the more intimidating the prospect seemed. Of course, even if I was able to support myself, there would be at least one tie connecting me to my mom- namely, the bond shared as family members. Perhaps my goal would be better termed "self-sufficiency," rather than "independence."

"So she recognizes that she'll always be a Himemiya, no matter where she goes or what she does," I said, "but what about you? Is part of the reason why you're fine with not being adopted into the Himemiya family because you still think of yourself as a Tsukimura?"

"That's true," Tsukimura-san said, "since I'm the only one left to carry on our legacy. If I get married, I'll probably have to take my husband's name, but I'll never forget my ties to the Tsukimuras or the Himemiyas."

I wondered how different my life would have been if I was the legitimate child of Shou and Yukari Mitamura, rather than as an illegitimate child. Regardless of how my life began or where it ended up, my life's course was influenced by my family, just like Tsukimura-san's was.

* * *

**EVENT 5: Tsukimura-san may one day have to find her own path, but she'll always be true to her friends and family.**

Tsukimura-san invited me over to her cabin, and we continued having me roleplay as a maid.

"You know, Nagato-san," Tsukimura-san said, "Himeno-sama once said that if she ever ended up as head of her family, the first thing she'd do is fire me."

"Excuse me?!" I said.

"That's how I reacted, too," Tsukimura-san said, "but then Himeno-sama explained her decision. First, she's never liked how she and I mistress and servant, and cannot consider ourselves equals. Second, she'd like to remove my dependency on the income I earn from her family, but she said that if I ever ran into trouble with money, she would help me out until I could get back on my feet. I appreciate the offer, even if I'd rather not impose on her."

I felt a little better about hearing that.

"That's good," I said, "but I imagine she'd feel lonely if you're no longer living with her."

"Yes, and so would I," Tsukimura-san said, "but both of us know that we're close enough that we won't necessarily drift apart if we're separated. It would be a bit of an adjustment, but we're sure we'll remain friends."

"I think so, too, Kanae-sama," I said. "I mean 'Tsukimura-san'."

Tsukimura-san giggled.

"There's no need to switch back to my last name, Chiyuri-chan," Tsukimura-san said, "although it'd be nice if you could drop the '-sama'. We're friends, aren't we?"

"If that's all right with you, Kanae-san," I said. "I'm glad you think so, too."

We shook hands. For much of my life, I wondered who would be willing to make the effort to reach out and befriend someone like me, an untalented girl who was born out of wedlock, but the answer was simple; not everyone judged people on their talents or their birth. Kanae-san was a rare friend, and both Himemiya-san and I were lucky to know her.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

It can be interesting to consider how Azuki and Chiyuri's perspectives on certain things can vary. While Azuki isn't fond of the Tsukimuras swearing fealty to the Himemiyas, Chiyuri's more accepting of it, possibly related to Azuki's mixed feelings about Chiyuri and Nagato-sensei sticking to a teacher-student relationship when class is in session.

The omake goes into Tsukimura and Himemiya's childhood. If Tsukimura's vocabulary in the narrative is a bit advanced for a four-year-old, it's because she's looking back on that memory as a teenager.

* * *

**Omake**

_Tsukimura's_ POV

One time, when Himeno-sama and I were four years old, we hung out together. My responsibilities grew as I got older, but since I was only a child, I was merely expected to pick up after Himeno-sama, and address her with the utmost respect. Even back then, Himeno-sama understood that there was a gap between us, and didn't like it one bit.

"Hey, Kanae, Himeno's curious about something," Himeno-sama said. "Why do you have to call Himeno '-sama', while she can just call you 'Kanae'?"

"Because I'm your maid, Himeno-sama," I said, parroting back the words that Father and the other adults told me, "and part of my job is to show you respect."

"That's not fair," Himeno-sama said. "Maybe Himeno should call you 'Kanae-sama' too. That way we'd be equal, right?"

I chuckled. Father had bluntly told me that the Himemiyas, our benefactors, were better than us, and we had to be deferential to them. He'd made it clear that he wouldn't stand for me contradicting him, but nevertheless, Himeno-sama's naïve but kind refusal to accept that touched my heart.

"That's... not how it works," I said. "You call me 'Kanae' because you think I'm your friend, right?"

"Yes," Himeno-sama said. "It's what Himeno thinks, not something Himeno was told to do."

"I am glad to hear that," I said. "It may not be a gesture I'm able to reciprocate, but I'm truly glad for it."

Himeno-sama changed in many ways as she grew up, but while her understanding of human relationships changed, her most fervent belief- that we, two girls who'd grown up together and always gotten along, could be friends regardless of our social differences- stayed the same. The same went for my gratitude toward her, and I hoped that one day, I could wholeheartedly call her my friend.


	25. Free Time Events: Sayuri Sasaki (Side C)

**Free Time Events: Sayuri Sasaki (Side C)**

**EVENT 1: Despite being a romance manga author, Sayuri-san doesn't know what it's like to fall in love.**

I asked Sayuri-san about her manga. Since Breakneck Canyon featured a gay couple and sex scenes, it was prominently featured on the list of books that were banned from the Saint Mary's High school library. There was even a notice saying something to the effect of "No, we will never have Breakneck Canyon in the library, so stop asking." Because of that, Sayuri-san wasn't surprised or disappointed that I'd never read it, and thus was patient when it came to answering my questions.

"I'm curious, Chiyuri-chan," Sayuri-san said. "Have you ever been in love?"

"Not at all, Sayuri-san," I said. "Since I went to an all-girls' school and I'm heterosexual, I haven't met any boys that I'm interested in."

When I considered who was left among the boys in our class, I didn't have a lot of choice. Kurogane-san was gay, Kirishima-san didn't seem capable of love, I couldn't stand Asakura, Karita-san was untrustworthy and I hadn't spent much time with Kumakura-san. Higurashi-san was the only boy I was at all close with, but I think both of us valued our professional relationship too much to fall in love.

"Oh," Sayuri-san said. "I thought you might have had a crush on Akira-chan."

"I didn't," I said. "She was a friend, and probably the first real friend I've ever had, but there wasn't anything 'special' between us."

"I see," Sayuri-san said. "I guess it's only natural that I misjudged your relationship. I'm sorry."

Sayuri-san bowed in apology.

"It's fine," I said. "But in any case, I guess you haven't fallen in love, either?"

"You could say that," Sayuri-san said, "although I have had people I was interested in. One was the president of my former school's s student council, a beautiful, intelligent and athletic girl two years my senior. I wasn't the only one to feel that way, of course, but I knew I never had a chance."

"Why not?" I said.

"A few reasons," Sayuri-san said. "She and I never spoke, since the only times I saw her were when she addressed the school body. She was also preparing to take entrance exams, she didn't have time for me... or anyone, really. Even if she did, she was probably heterosexual, and even if she was into girls, I had a lot of competition. It didn't cost anything to fantasize about her, but I knew that I didn't have a chance."

I was reminded of how my mom once took me to look at some dolls in a fancy toy store when I was little. It was fun to take a look at them, even if I knew they were far too expensive for a teacher and a single mother. From what I'd just heard, Sayuri-san was mature enough to recognize that she couldn't always get what she wanted in life, and live with that.

"I've always been fascinated by romances between the senpai and kohai," Sasaki said, "even if I don't think it would really would work out. The relationship between a respectable senpai and an awe-struck kohai would only work as long as the latter pines after and pursues the former. When the latter catches the former, the relationship should become an equal one."

"That's certainly true," I said, "but why do you say that?"

"My dad was my mom's senpai in high school," Sayuri-san said. "Once they started going out, she stopped calling him 'Sasaki-senpai' and started calling him 'Shinji-san.' Of course, even before then, Mom didn't put him on a pedestal like everyone else did. In fact, she wasn't sure she liked him."

I'd heard this story a million times before. A man and a woman start out hating each other, but by the end of the movie, they fall in love. When done well, it was a heartwarming way of showing how people could overcome their differences, but when done poorly, it came off as nothing more than a cliché.

"Is that so?" I said. "But how did your parents get together, then?"

"That's a good question," Sayuri-san said, "not to mention one that I often ask myself in hindsight. You see, Mom became friends with my dad's younger sister, Sanae-san, and got to know him better. When she did finally meet him, Mom realized that Dad didn't mind that she didn't have the greatest first impression of him... not when he felt the same way. They ended up fighting after that, but quickly became friends, and started going out by the end of the year."

My feelings of disbelief were probably written all over my face, since Sayuri-san chuckled mirthlessly.

"I can tell you're still not sold on my parents being a happy couple, Chiyuri-chan," Sayuri-san said.

"Th-That's not it," I said. "Part of it's related to how I find it hard to say things that might offend people. That's not to say it doesn't happen anyway; it's just that I wouldn't say what your mother did."

"I understand," Sayuri-san said, "but in any case, you weren't wrong to feel that way. If they'd known back then how things would turn out then... well, forget it."

Sayuri-san quickly changed the subject. I wanted to ask her what she meant, but it wasn't fair to ask her about a sensitive topic regarding her parents when I hadn't told her about mine. In any case, her family was probably not the happiest in the world, and I hoped she'd confide in me about them.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Sayuri-san's art is amazing, but she's not nearly as confident about her writing. That being said, she persists and tries to improve her skills, since she has a story to tell.**

Sayuri-san and I talked about her manga for a little while. The committee evaluating her as an Ultimate candidate didn't have time to read and evaluate the entire thing, so the judges evaluated the initial one-shot submission, the first chapter, and a few of the chapters that had just come out before making their decision.

"That's amazing, Sayuri-san," I said. "You really seem like you're good at writing romance."

"You really think so?" Sayuri-san said. "I'm... not so sure."

I wasn't sure whether Sayuri-san was being modest or she really believed that.

"As surprising as it may be, I don't think I know all that much about love," Sayuri-san said. "After all, I'm known as the Ultimate Manga Artist, not the Ultimate Romance Writer. When I was evaluated by Talent High School, the administration seemed more impressed with my art than the story. It's a bit like how Tatsuki-chan was given an Ultimate title for her guitar skills, rather than her singing."

"Is that a bad thing?" I said.

Sayuri-san didn't answer immediately. As disheartened as she'd sounded, she had to concede that it wasn't all bad.

"I have mixed feelings about it," Sayuri-san said. "On the one hand, I'm glad that my artistic skills were recognized as the best in my field. I've always been fond of manga, since there are certain things you can portray through pictures that you can't in text. That, and my talent in drawing, were why I chose to become a manga artist rather than a novelist."

"Good for you," I said, "but what's the bad part?"

"On the other hand," Sayuri-san said, "I wish my writing had been given similar recognition. The importance of good art in a manga can't be understated, but in the end, the art is simply a means of telling the story. Even if you excel with the visual aspects of the story, such as character design, scenery and panel layout, you also need good dialogue, character development and storytelling."

I could see what Sayuri-san was getting at, but knew that there were a lot of people who couldn't do either. I could barely draw a picture of a man and a woman kissing, let alone do so with the various pens and other tools manga artists needed to produce their work. The one time I'd written a romance story for a creative writing class, I barely got a passing grade.

"That's disappointing," I said, "but at the same time, shouldn't you be glad to be the best in at least one aspect of your work?"

"Fair enough," Sayuri-san said. "That said, success in a field as competitive as manga means not settling for anything less than your best. As such, for the sake of my pride as a manga artist, and in order to continue to publish manga, I'll have to constantly improve myself."

"Keep at it," I said, "but have you ever considered partnering up with a more experienced writer?"

Sayuri-san shook her head.

"No," Sayuri-san said. "It's not a bad idea in theory, but I don't know anyone who not only can do the job, but would be easy to work with. Besides, even if I did, there are stories that I want to tell myself."

I smiled encouragingly, but wondered if personal experience had shown Sayuri-san that it could often be difficult for people to forge a lasting partnership. Too many marriages ended up falling apart or becoming loveless, so perhaps Sayuri-san knew that from personal experience.

* * *

**EVENT 3: Sayuri-san finds it difficult to write a heartwarming but still believable love story.**

Sayuri-san and I talked about some modern romances, and discussed the various clichés that were in them. If nothing else, Sayuri-san was quite familiar with the tropes of the genre.

"You know, Sayuri-san, I meant what I said last time," I said. "I think you have the skills to make an original and interesting love story, and most critics that I remember seem to think you did a good job with the story. If the judges praise your artwork, it's just because it's that good."

"I'm glad you think so, Chiyuri-chan," Sayuri-san said. "I suppose that my perfectionism is only part of the reason why I'm dissatisfied with the romance side. The other part is that even if I can make a good romance story, I don't know if it does justice to the real thing."

"What do you mean?" I said.

"As you can imagine, fictional love stories aren't always realistic," Sayuri-san said, "like how a knight rescues a princess and they live happily ever after. But would the princess really fall in love with someone who'd just met, even if she owes him her life? What would a marriage between a knight and a princess mean for them in the future?"

I wished I'd watched Summer's End while I'd had the chance. While I'd normally watch anything that Akira-san appeared in, the series was a bit dark and brutal for my tastes, especially the controversial rape scene early on. If I'd become familiar with it, I might have learned a bit about the rules for marriage in a medieval society.

"It's hard for me to say," I said. "Maybe the knight would become a prince by marrying into the royal family, or maybe the princess would be disowned- or worse- for marrying below her station."

"That's a good guess," Sayuri-san said, "but in many romance stories, I can't help but be afraid that disaster is in store for the couple after the story ends and the credits roll. After all, even if the conflict is resolved, anything can happen in the future."

I knew all too well what Sayuri-san meant. Mom and Dad had enjoyed years of happiness together, but thanks to a reckless driver, Dad had been deprived of his life, as well as the joys of fatherhood. Of course, even if my parents had gotten married, would their marriage have been a happy one?

"You're right about that," I said. "Maybe you could write a sequel to your manga in which the two leads are married?"

"I've thought about it," Sayuri-san said, "but there isn't much demand for that kind of story. Besides, most writing involves conflict of some kind, so I'd have to avoid adding contrived drama without making the whole thing boring, either. Considering the difficulties involved with this, I'd rather move on and start a new series, leaving what happens next to my readers' imaginations"

I was starting to understand some of the challenges of writing romance, ones that even the Ultimate Manga Artist struggled with. That said, while it made sense for Sayuri-san to think carefully about all aspects of her works, she seemed unusually conscious about the staying power of her couples' relationships, and I suspected there was a personal reason behind it.

* * *

**EVENT 4: Sayuri-san's parents are the main reason why she lacks confidence in her ability to write a realistic loving relationship. Despite that, she does believe that with the right qualities, people can make romantic relationships work.**

We talked for a bit about some more romance tropes, ones that would seemingly preclude healthy relationships, such as two lovers who couldn't seem to stop arguing, even for a minute.

"I've been thinking, Chiyuri-chan," Sayuri-san said, "and I decided to tell you why I'm so worried about my romances being true to life. It's a story that I've only told Miharu-chan."

I immediately knew the significance of the latter remark, since I wasn't the only one who'd lost a friend on the last island. Sayuri-san hadn't just lost Akira-san, but also Mihama-san, who'd been her cabin mate and confidant. If Sayuri-san trusted me enough to tell me this story, the least I could do was listen.

"I'm listening," I said. "Please, begin whenever you're ready."

"When my parents first got together, they were very much in love," Sayuri-san said. "Sure, they argued a lot, but they seemed like they enjoyed that, and it didn't take away from how much they loved each other."

As heartwarming as Sayuri-san's story sounded, I remembered that it was one of the romantic couple archetypes she'd always complained about. The fact that her story was told in the past tense wasn't lost on me, either.

"That... didn't last," Sayuri-san said. "When Mom got pregnant with me and got married to Dad- _in that order_ \- my parents realized that keeping a marriage together is hard work. The arguments got worse, not to mention more frequent, as they struggled with the stress of being married and raising a young daughter. By the time I was in fourth grade, they ended up divorcing."

"I'm sorry..." I said. "I don't know what to say about this, since my situation is different, but..."

"It's fine, Chiyuri-chan," Sayuri-san said. "I appreciate the thought."

While Sayuri-san's father was probably still alive, unlike mine, she and I knew what it was like to have our once loving families ripped apart. She might very well have suffered from the social stigma attached to divorce, but if she did, she didn't show it.

"I talked with Sanae-san about this," Sayuri-san said, "and she said that Mom and Dad do fondly remember their time together, even if they're too bitter to love the other anymore. But it does make me wonder if love is idealized. Obviously, you should be able to love your significant other, but it's not the only thing that keeps a marriage together. Both people need to be willing to make compromises, sacrifices and allowances for the other's differences in order to be a stable couple."

"I think so, too," I said, "but if you found someone who could do that, wouldn't it only be natural for you to fall in love with that person?"

"Of course," Sayuri-san said. "People fall in love for the wrong reasons, and the concept of a 'soulmate' is mostly a myth, but if you meet someone who does have the qualities to be a good partner, I'm sure you'll know."

I smiled. Sayuri-san was a bit self-deprecating when it came to romance writing- not that I had room to talk- but one thing was clear. She had a clear idea of what she wanted to express and how to do so, an absolutely vital roadmap to her success. All that she had left was to travel the roads outlined in that map, and her abilities would see her to her final destination.

* * *

**EVENT 5: Sayuri-san still believes in the power of love and in happy endings, and hopes to express that in her manga.**

Sayuri-san and I met in her cabin.

"You know, Chiyuri-chan," Sayuri-san said, "I just remembered part of the reason why I got into romance manga in the first place."

"Why's that?" I said.

"After my parents divorced, I wondered if true love didn't actually exist," Sayuri-san said, "and feared that the perfect 'happily ever after' endings in so many love stories were too good to be true. Despite that, I wanted to write a love story with a happy ending that could feasibly happen in real life."

I smiled approvingly. Perhaps Sayuri-san's lack of faith in her writing was less because of the title she'd gotten, and more because she had no way of knowing whether she'd accomplished it.

"That's a good goal," I said.

"I'm glad you think so," Sayuri-san said, "but it's also one that isn't easy to accomplish, because there's no clearly defined set of criteria for it. If I want to set a record for the best-selling romance manga, all I need to do is write well enough to sell manga volumes, and the sales figures will show whether I achieve the goal. If I want to write the story that I've always wanted to, the only way I can make progress is to continually improve my writing."

"Good luck with that," I said. "I'll be rooting for you, both in manga and in romance."

"Thank you, Chiyuri-chan," Sayuri-san said. "I'm glad to have a friend like you."

We shook hands. A part of me wondered why it had taken me so long to open to someone as kind-hearted and gregarious as Sayuri-san, but I was glad I'd done so before it was too late. I hoped that someday, she'd be able to write an excellent happy ending for her manga, as well as earn one for herself in real life.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

This was one of the first Free Time Event chains I thought of for Chiyuri, although it took me a bit longer to flesh out all the details.

I'd originally planned to make more of a deal out of the fact that Sayuri was born from an unplanned pregnancy, but wasn't sure how to work it in to the series of Free Time Events.


	26. Free Time Events: Seita Kirishima (Side C)

**Free Time Events: Seita Kirishima (Side C)**

**EVENT 1: Kirishima-san believes that what one does with their life is most important.**

I listened as Kirishima-san shared some of his research with me. Despite the fact that science was my worst subject, and what he was saying was no more comprehensible than my teachers' lectures, I did my best to show that I was at least paying attention.

After a little while of awkward one-sided conversation, Kirishima-san decided to get to the point.

"Pardon my bluntness, Nagato-kun," Kirishima-san said, "but you hate me, do you not?"

I hesitated a moment. While my answer was "no," it probably wasn't the one that Kirishima-san wanted to hear. As he looked at me expectantly, I realized he wanted me to answer, and so I did.

"I believe it's a sin to hate people," I said, "but it's also a sin to lie, so I'll admit it- I don't like you."

"That answers my question," Kirishima-san said, "but why did you choose to spend time with me?"

"I want to understand you better" I said, "starting with what you said after the third trial. More specifically, I want to know why you think Akira-san's life was meaningless."

"Her _death_ ," Kirisihima-san said firmly. "Azuki-kun gave her life for the others but her becoming responsible for Mihama-kun's death happened purely due to chance. We may have survived, but only until the next murder and class trial."

I had no rebuttal to that, especially not when Kirishima-san wasn't finished speaking.

"That being said," Kirishima-san said, "while I stand by what I said back then, I did not mean that her _life_ was meaningless."

"Fair enough," I said, "but why do you say that her death was meaningless, but her life wasn't?"

"People can die for almost any reason conceivable," Kirishima-san said, "whether as a consequence of their own actions or mere chance. However, the worth of one's life come from the sum total of one's accomplishments. In the course of her short life, Azuki-kun starred in movies, which will likely be viewed many times after she died, and will become her legacy."

I appreciated the clarification, even if I still didn't think much of it... or the seemingly disapproving tone in Kirishima's tone.

"You don't think much of Akira-san's legacy, do you, Kirishima-san?" I said.

"I believe that making movies is of less significance to the human race than a useful invention or important scientific discovery," Kirishima-san said. "On the other hand, it is far more than most people can aspire to. If nothing else, those who watched her movies will remember her name and her accomplishments."

"Perhaps," I said, "but what about the power that movies and other forms of entertainment have to enrich people's lives?"

Kirishima-san scoffed.

"Perhaps they do have such power," Kirishima-san said, "but that power's benefit is difficult to ascertain, and so is of little meaning to me."

Knowing I wouldn't get anywhere with Kirishima-san, I dropped the subject. He seemed so intelligent and sure in his ways that it would be impossible for someone like me to teach him anything, but maybe I could learn from him.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Kirishima-san is quite serious about one's legacy being all that matters. He's willing to make any sacrifice necessary for the sake of his legacy, but is it necessarily altruistic?**

I talked with Kirishima-san again, and discussed famous scientists with him. He even admired some of the ones whose findings became obsolete later, since what they'd discovered had laid the groundwork for future research.

"Are people's careers and achievements really all that matter, Kirishima-san?" I said. "What about, say, raising a family?"

"That, too, is worthwhile" Kirishima-san said. "If you raise your children well, they may go on to become admirable members of society. Himemiya-kun, for example, is one of the latest members in a long dynasty that has upheld the family name for generations."

So at the very least, Kirishima-san agreed with some of my points. I was tempted to call this a victory of sorts, but I wanted to know more about his position.

"But if I recall correctly, Himemiya-san isn't her family's heiress, is she?" I said. "She'll probably marry someone else and take on his family name if she ends up having children at all."

Technically, it was possible for her to get pregnant out of wedlock, like my mom had with me. I didn't know whether her children would be considered Himemiyas in that case, or whether it would be any different from one of Himemiya-san's brothers getting some woman pregnant. Of course, Himemiya-san's eldest brother's children would have the advantage when it came to headship of the family.

"In that case, she will be unable to carry on her family name," Kirishima-san said. "It's then up to her what to do with her life, but I doubt she will have much of an impact on her family."

That was easy for Kirishima-san to say as an outsider, so I decided to put his belief to the test..

"I'd like to propose a hypothetical situation," I said, "in which we assume that you're the eldest son of the respectable Kirishima family. You would likely have little freedom as a child, with almost every spare moment used to groom you into the perfect heir. You would likely be expected to marry a woman from a respectable and/or wealthy family, someone you may not necessarily love. You would then have to have children, preferably at least one boy who could inherit the family. You would have to raise those children as strictly as you yourself were raised, with little room for paternal affection."

Kirishima-san stared at me, as if to ask "Where's the question?" Maybe it was a bad idea to talk about love and marriage, or to act as though I knew what paternal love was (although Kirishima-san probably didn't know about my father). If Kirishima-san agreed with either thought, though, he didn't openly say it.

"Anyway, my question is this," I said. "Is it all worth it?"

"It would be," Kirishima-san said. "I would grow up in relative wealth and comfort. I would eventually become the revered patriarch of the family, and after my death, my children would remember who had raised them and watched over the 'kingdom' they now rule. As long as my children grow up to be good stewards of that kingdom, as do their children and subsequent generations I wll be content."

I didn't hear any mention of love or even duty in Kirishima-san's answer, but one thing was clear. To him, one's legacy was most important, and he had little time for sentimentality. The more I learned about him, the wider the gap between his values and mine grew.

* * *

**EVENT 3: Kirishima-san concedes that ordinary people can change the world, but doesn't think it's necessarily a good thing.**

I talked with Kirishima-san again, and asked about using DNA in paternity testing. He was willing to answer my questions, but most likely never realized why I was interested in that subject.

"On the subject of family, there's someone I'd like to tell you about," I said, "specifically, my maternal grandfather. He never got very good grades, nor did he attend college. Instead, he worked at a car factory for his entire career, fell in love, got married, and raised a woman who grew up to be a teacher- our teacher. When I was fairly young, he retired, and the company replaced him with a younger worker who was willing to work for less. Just after I started middle school, he died of a stroke."

"I see," Kirishima-san said, not even offering a perfunctory "I'm sorry for your loss."

Of course, while Kirishima-san was rather cold, and I wasn't fond of that part of him, I didn't hold his lack of sympathy against him. It was hard to feel anything for someone you'd only just heard about, whose only significance to you was being the relative of an acquaintance (or two, if you counted Mom). If Kirishima-san had told me about his grandfather, I doubt I would have felt much sorrow for the elder Kirishima.

"You'd expect that no one would show up to Grandpa's funeral," I said, "but you'd be wrong. Not only did his wife, daughter and granddaughter- namely me- come to the funeral, but so did many of his friends, their families and other people. He wasn't especially smart or talented, but he had a reputation as a kind, honest and hard-working person. He wasn't famous, but he'd touched many people's lives, and all those people were sad to see him go."

"That... is admirable," Kirishima-san said. "But what will happen once everyone who remembers him is dead?"

"Then I suppose he'll be forgotten," I said, "but if one highly talented person can change the world, it takes millions, billions of hard-working people to keep it going. By combining their strengths, they can also affect change."

"Indeed," Kirishima-san said, "for good or for ill. After all, the chaos that consumed the world was not caused artificially, but was likely the result of many people being consumed by insanity."

As a part of me took offense at Kirishima-san's (admittedly most likely true) assertion, I realized we were gradually swapping our original positions about one talented person versus the ordinary masses. While that wasn't lost on me, I still hoped to continue this line of questioning.

"That may be so," I said, "but what do you suppose is the source of their insanity?"

"I can only hazard a guess," Kirishima-san said, "but people are capable of doing terrible things, often by blindly following another's will. The only question is whether the source of the madness is one individual or many."

That was a question that only political scholars could even try to answer, since even the most charismatic leaders owed their success to favorable political climates. Likewise, the talented students had benefited from circumstances that had helped them foster that talent- free time, access to resources and training, and people who could take notice of them, among others- so perhaps Kirishima-san was luckier than most. But what would Kirishima-san do with his good fortune?

* * *

**EVENT 4:** **Kirishima-san believes that by continuing his research, he can leave a lasting legacy.**

Kirishima-san and I discussed the legacy some of our classmates might have after their deaths- including the ones who had already died. Kirishima-san could count the number of Ultimates in our class who would influence the future on one hand.

"This is a question that I've been meaning to ask for a while, Kirishima-san," I said, "but while you've been quite open about how other people may be forgotten, what about you? Surely, someone will build on your research, or perhaps make it obsolete."

"I am sure they will," Kirishima-san said, "but if my research laid the groundwork for future advances, I will be satisfied with my accomplishments. Of course, this is only speculation, as such an event will likely only occur after I am dead. Such a pity."

Considering that Kirishima-san didn't hesitate to answer, he hadn't been at all fazed by the question, and considering that his response hadn't been a knee-jerk one, he'd clearly thought it through before.

"How so?" I said.

"I would like to live forever," Kirishima-san said, "or at least have the ability to glimpse into the future after my death. Humanity makes new discoveries all the time, and I would like to see as many as I can."

"Even if you outlive everyone else you know and care about?" I said.

As I said that, I realized that I would probably outlive Mom- she certainly hoped I would. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, though, as both she and I hoped we would eventually reunite with each other and with Dad in Heaven. A part of me still clung the hope of such a heavenly reunion with my parents, as well as Akira-san and the others who'd died in the killing game, even if I wondered whether God existed, or whether He would allow such a reunion.

"Yes," Kirishima-san said. "It would be for the best if they could see these new developments unfold alongside me, but if not, such is life."

For a moment, I wondered if Kirishima-san would deem me one of the people he'd consider worthy to witness the future alongside him, but knew that was wishful thinking. It was just as well, though, since I'd also realized I didn't need his approval; I'd found other people who cared for me.

* * *

**EVENT 5: I'll probably never truly be friends with Kirishima-san, but I have learned a lot talking with him.**

Kirishima-san invited me over to his room. There were a lot of scientific charts up on the wall, even though they might. Since I wasn't very good at science, they might as well have been in a foreign language, and I was fairly sure one of them was in English.

"This may be our last time meeting like this, Nagato-kun," Kirishima-san said, "so I have a few questions for you."

"Go ahead and ask, Kirishima-san," I said.

Kirishima-san nodded.

"My first question is as follows," Kirishima-san said. "Do you believe you understand why I believe Azuki-kun's death was meaningless, but her life was not?"

"I do," I said. "She died senselessly, but her life left behind what you might call a 'legacy' of sorts. To you, that's all that matters."

"Indeed," Kirishima-san said, "and you already answered what would have been my second question. My third and final question is perhaps the most difficult- why continue to spend time with me, even knowing how different our values are?"

I paused to think for a moment.

"I wanted to learn more about you," I said, "to find out whether you saw people as people, or only judged them by the value of their accomplishments, and if possible, try to help you to see things from my perspective. I'm sad to say I didn't succeed."

"People's values do not change easily, Nagato-kun," Kirishima-san said, "since they are the foundation on which all they achieve is built. To use an extreme example, imagine a murderous zealot who believes his god commands him to kill nonbelievers. If he were to question his faith, or even renounce it, he would no longer be able to live with himself after committing so many atrocities for a cause he no longer follows."

Maybe I was over-sensitive, but I suspected that Kirishima-san, who was almost certainly an atheist, had chosen religion as an example due to his disdain for supposedly irrational faith. Despite that, I realized that if I ever lost my faith in God, I would be troubled, but I wouldn't question the life I'd led until now. I'd still try to be a good person according to the Bible's teachings, even if I was no longer a Christian.

"You're not necessarily wrong about people like him," I said, "but I think that people can change. All it takes is the courage to look inside oneself, the wisdom to realize what one must do and the determination to follow through. Sometimes, a catalyst may be necessary for this process to begin, but I don't think it's impossible for it to happen on its own."

"Perhaps," Kirishima-san said, "but I think that there is a fourth component, related to the third- the desire to change. Without that one spark, the process will never began."

"Fair enough," I said. "I suppose that's the difference between us."

I'd always hoped to become a stronger and more confident person, even if I didn't know how, and the only thing I lacked was the determination. My meeting Akira-san had helped provide me with the catalyst for that process to begin, and while I'd always be grateful to her for that, the rest was up to me.

"One more thing," Kirishima-san said as I started to leave. "Regardless of whatever you may accomplish in the future, you have proven worth remembering, as an honest and straightforward person who lives according to her beliefs. Even if few people will remember you, I doubt I will ever forget you."

"Thank you... I guess," I said.

"I meant it," Kirishima-san said. "The best thing you can do to honor someone's memory is to remember them- an act that signifies that out of the countless multitudes you meet, their existence had significance to you. In that way, remembering Azuki-kun is the best thing you can do for her as her friend."

"I will," I said, before bowing in gratitude. "Thank you very much, Kirishima-san."

I got up and politely excused myself. Kirishima-san's values were too different from mine to be friends, but I had enjoyed and learned a lot from talking with him. I promised I'd always remember our conversations, and learn from them as best as I could.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

This FTE chain shows Kirishima's values and how different they are from Nagato's. As you can expect, they don't end up becoming friends.

One aspect that I ended up cutting from Kirishima's backstory was how he was an illegitimate child, which influenced his desire to go into genetics. I couldn't find a good way to incorporate this information.


	27. Free Time Events: Himeno Himemiya (Side C)

**Free Time Events: Himeno Himemiya (Side C)**

_Spoiler Alert: Possible minor spoilers in Event 4, in addition to the obvious ones for Chapter III._

**EVENT 1: While Himemiya-san and I haven't gotten off on the right foot, she does seem to realize that she's harsh with me.**

I spent a little while with Himemiya-san. We didn't know much about each other apart from our names, our talents, and some of the people we liked or disliked, so we were practically starting from square one.

"I must admit that I didn't expect you to ask to spend time with me, Nagato-san," Himemiya-san said. "I had been under the impression that you disliked me."

I shook my head. While we hadn't spent much time together before Akira-san died, and Himemiya-san was undoubtedly closer to Tsukimura-san, Akira-san ad Sayuri-san, the worst I felt about her was disappointment that she thought I might plot a murder to save myself and my mother on the second island.

"I know we haven't exactly been close, Himemiya-san," I said, "but please tell me. When did I ever say anything that would give you that impression?"

"It's more what you didn't say," Himemiya-san said. "In my house, telling someone you dislike them is as inappropriate as announcing that you're going to the toilet. In both cases, you simply dance around the issue, saying what you need to without actually saying it."

While Mom had been certain to teach me good manners, I didn't socialize much as a child, and so didn't have much practice spotting subtle social cues. Maybe that went both ways, and I ended up being just as clumsy with what I implicitly expressed to others.

"Well, that wasn't what I intended," I said, "and I'm sorry if I sent that signal by mistake."

"No, I should apologize," Himemiya-san said, "for reading subtext that wasn't there."

Himemiya-san bowed in apology. It seemed to me that the best course of action was to accept that gesture while changing the subject.

"It's fine, I won't hold it against you," I said. "Anyway, your parents and the rest of your family are strict about manners, aren't they?"

"They are," Himemiya-san said, "as well as about anything that would impact the family's reputation- my grades, my behavior, and so on and so forth. I suppose they succeeded in imparting their lessons on me, though, since I worked hard and stayed out of trouble."

"I think so, too," I said, "but you don't seem pleased."

"I benefited from playing by my parents' rules, but it didn't make me happy," Himemiya-san said. "When my parents had company over, it was never any fun for me. There was very little I could say apart from mere pleasantries, and it was often wisest to say nothing at all. The adults' remarks were carefully calculated on the basis of appearances, too, so they were also concerned about their reputations."

I remained silent.

"Because of that, I wasn't sure I wanted to spend much time with you," Himemiya-san said. "Since you seemed like you were cut from the same cloth as I was, I thought you were deliberately holding yourself back, not sharing what you really felt. I thought you might judge me unfavorably if I gave any indication that I wasn't really that kind of person."

"I can't do that," I said, "since I'm not that kind of person, either."

Himemiya-san nodded, while faintly smiling.

"But now that we've actually talked, I'm grateful," Himemiya-san said, "since this conversation has been more meaningful than most of the ones I've had with my family. If it's all right with you, Nagato-san, I'd like to do so again."

"It certainly is, Himemiya-san," I said. "I'd be happy to talk with you again."

While I hadn't talked much with Himemiya-san in the past, due to our differing backgrounds and personalities, I realized I'd missed out. on a lot. There was no guarantee Himemiya-san would still be around tomorrow, so I had to make every day with her and the rest of my remaining classmates (or at least the ones I could stand) count.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Himemiya-san hasn't had all that many friends in the past.**

I had tea with Himemiya-san. I didn't know the first thing about tea ceremony, so Himemiya-san said there were only three rules for teatime with her- "Don't spill your tea," "Don't drop the cup," and "Don't burn your tongue," which applied to virtually every other beverage.

"You know, Nagato-san, I'm still a bit surprised that you're so willing to spend time with me," Himemiya-san said, "but I'm definitely not unhappy. It's just that I doubt we ever would have met if we hadn't come to this school, and not just because our old schools were in different prefectures."

My first guess was that Himemiya-san's school was more prestigious than mine, since Himemiya-san seemed like a much better student than me, and if it were true, I couldn't have gotten in. It wasn't good to make assumptions, though, so I decided to ask more about it.

"Why is that?" I said.

"To put it bluntly, we don't have much in common," Himemiya-san said. "Unless we ended up getting into the same class, we'd probably join different clubs, hang out with different groups of friends. I'm not the sort to make a lot of friends, so I probably wouldn't have gone out of my way to befriend you."

I nodded. With dozens or even hundreds of students in any one grade in high school, the chance of two students meeting or becoming close was fairly low unless they had a class or a club in common.

"What about Tsukimura-san?" I said. "You got along well with her, didn't you?"

"We did," Himemiya-san said, "but Kanae, being outgoing and affable, was the type who got along well with everyone... at least those who gave her a chance."

I was a bit perplexed to hear this. I'd only known Tsukimura-san for less than a week, but she seemed like a kinder person than the vast majority of my schoolmates. I wished I'd had more time to spend with her, and that I'd used the time I had to get to know her better, but I was glad that we'd met.

"Why wouldn't they?" I said.

"Quite simply, because she's a servant," Himemiya-san said. "Of course, not everyone knew, since at school, she called me 'Himemiya-san,' essentially treating me like an acquaintance rather than her mistress. The fact that our school used to be one for rich girls helped give the impression that she was from a well-off family, so most of our classmates, who never saw us outside of school, didn't know any better."

Himemiya-san's tone was bitter, especially when delivering the latter remark.

"While we were attending the middle school division, Kanae and I met and befriended a girl named Hitomi Ayanokouji," Himemiya-san said. "Ayanokouji-san's family had become rather wealthy and influential not long before she was born, so my parents encouraged me to get along with her. I was a bit reserved around her, since I wasn't sure what kind of person she was, but Kanae hit it off with her really well; they called each other 'Hitomi-chan' and 'Kanae-chan' when it was just them. I was a bit jealous of how close they were, but I was happy for Kanae… emphasis on 'was.' Still, I was considering officially calling Ayanokouj-san a friend, as well as by her first name, and would've if not for..."

"If not for what?" I said as Himemiya-san trailed off.

Himemiya-bit her lip for a moment, then continued once she'd composed herself.

"The summer of the year we met Ayanokouji-san, my parents had the Ayanokoujis over for dinner," Himemiya-san said, "and Kanae, whose talent had started to blossom, had to help out. When she and Ayanokouji-san saw each other, she blurted out 'Hitomi-chan!' in surprise. I'll never forget how coldly Ayanokouji-san glared at her and said 'Don't act like you know me, _servant.'_ Kanae was able to keep herself together until the Ayanokoujis went home, then broke down and wept while she was washing the dishes."

"That's horrible…" I said.

"After that, Ayanokouji-san started avoiding Kanae," Himemiya-san said. "In response, I spent as little time as possible interacting with Ayanokouji-san, who didn't seem to notice how gravely she'd offended me. Because I'm aware that friendship can be offered with dishonest motives or can involve only superficially getting along with others, I tend to be somewhat cynical about it, and thus slow to make friends."

I sighed. I had some idea of what Tsukimura-san had dealt with, since some of my classmates were outwardly polite to me but whispered behind my back, but this was one lesson I'd never learned.

"I'm honestly sorry Tsukimura-san had to deal with something like that," I said, "and I agree that people like Ayanokouji-san can be two-faced. However, as someone who hasn't had any friends until this cruise, I have no desire to go back to being lonely."

"I can't fault you for that, Nagato-san," Himemiya-san said. "Of course, when you have a friend like Kanae, few other people measure up. One of the few people I thought of as close of a friend was Akira, but..."

"I think we can agree on that," I said. "I can't replace Akira-san or Tsukimura-san, but I hope to be a better friend to you than Ayanokouji-san was."

"I'm sure you will, Nagato-san," Himemiya-san said, "and thank you."

While Himemiya-san likely imagined herself to be a person who was difficult to befriend, I could see the ice between us starting to break. Perhaps this process was helped by our commonalities- that we didn't make friends easily, but had managed to befriend Akira-san- but that was all the more reason to foster a good relationship with Himemiya-san.

* * *

**EVENT 3: Himemiya-san wasn't exactly popular on her archery team, but she was grateful that her teammates were honest.**

Himemiya-san and I talked for a little bit about our schools. Since I hadn't been in any clubs, I let Himemiya-san talk about her club.

"Were you on you school's archery team?" I said. "Surely you must have become well respected there."

"In a sense, I was," Himemiya-san said, "but 'respected' is not necessarily the same as 'liked.'"

"Why not?" I said.

Himemiya let off a sigh, as she once again revisited bitter memories.

"Let's say you're an aspiring archer," Himemiya-san said. "In your first year, you mostly do chores for the team, and _maybe_ you get to practice a little when you have time. In your second and third years, you start moving up and getting recognized, and in your third, you might just get the opportunity to represent the team. Do you understand?"

"That sounds obvious enough," I said.

"Well, imagine that some exceptionally talented first-year ended up upstaging you," Himemiya-san said. "There's only so many spots on the team, and she takes one of them, so you don't make the cut. How do you think you'd feel?"

I paused to think. Before I'd been named the Ulimate Tech Support, a title I didn't deserve, I hadn't truly been confident in any of my skills. Then again, most people, not just Ultimates, had at least a few things they were good at, even if a lot of people were better than them, so I tried to imagine their perspective.

"Probably a bit jealous," I said. "Alternatively, I could ask myself the hard questions- namely, whether I'm good enough to deserve it, and whether my competing would be in the team's best interests."

"You're right on both counts," Himemiya-san said. "Some people complained, but it's clear that they probably wouldn't have earned a spot on the team anyway. It'd be one thing if they were the best of the benchwarmers, but some of the people whining were probably ranked fifth, tenth, or maybe dead last."

"That's not exactly fair," I said. "After all, the coach and/or the team captain determined the lineup, not you, right?"

I didn't know a lot about an archery team, much less hers, so I hoped I wasn't too presumptuous. Luckily for me, Himemiya-san wasn't the type to judge me for making a good faith guess... or for getting it right.

"That's true," Himemiya-san said, "but I made a convenient scapegoat. It's easier to disrespect a first-year than it is to disrespect the captain or coach, so they chose to pick on me, making disparaging remarks about me whenever their betters weren't listening.."

"In other words, they chose the easiest target around," I said. "I guess that sort of cowardice is only natural for bullies."

Himemiya-san laughed out loud.

"Did I... say something funny?" I said.

"Not exactly," Himemiya-san said. "You just reminded me of how ironic the situation was. At home, my servants can't so much as look at me the wrong way, while the associates of my family know better than to antagonize me. Kanae knows this, too, and while she listened to me vent, she said she'd have gotten in so much trouble if she'd dared to talk to me like that."

I wondered what life would be like if I was born to a rich family with my status as an illegitimate child, but the latter probably would have voided all benefits I could expect from he former.

"Then again," Himemiya-san said, "that was honest, if nothing else. True, people were jealous of me, but at least they didn't put me on a pedestal or treat me well because of who I was related to. They treated me just like anyone else... well, just like any other talented upstart who managed to outshine them. If nothing else, they're more honest than many of the people who associated with me to curry favor with my father."

"I see," I said. "But why not hope for something better? Like maybe being treated as a friend?"

Himemiya-san remained silent.

"I'm sorry, Himemiya-san," I said. "That wasn't a fair question, since I haven't had any real friends until recently."

"It's a fair and honest question, Nagato-san," Himemiya-san said, "so I'll have to think it over."

Himemiya-san left for now, a lot on her mind. Maybe I wasn't the best person to say this, but I hoped she'd one day realize that there were people out there, including on this very ship, who valued her as a person. It had taken me a while to understand this, but I was sure that in the end, she would understand that, too.

* * *

**EVENT 4: Despite her less-than-pleasant experiences in the past, Himeno-san values friendship, as well as the true friends she's made over the years.**

Himeno-san and I spent a while making small talk, having gotten used to using each other's first names.

"You know, Chiyuri, I suppose some of my complaining about my so-called friends must sound rather depressing," Himeno-san said, "so perhaps I should instead talk about some of my true friends."

"I'm listening," I said, already expecting who would be first on the list.

"First of all, there's Kanae," Himeno-san said. "Despite being my servant, she's always been a true friend."

"I know," I said. "It sounds as though you two were really close."

Himeno-san smiled.

"Maybe I should move on to someone you don't know," Himeno-san said, "namely Shiho Suzuhara, a scholarship student at my old middle school. She met Kanae at lunch in the fall, not long after Ayanokouji-san abandoned Kanae. When Kanae said she was a maid for my family, Shiho asked two things. The first was 'So what?'. The second was whether my family had any openings, since they thought we paid well."

"That's hilarious," I said.

"I agree," Himeno-san said, "but Shiho's family was struggling to make ends meet, which was why she was one of the few students who had permission to work part-time. She could only do so as long as she kept her grades up, but she managed admirably- I think she's the second smartest person I know, after Mihama-san."

There wasn't really any way to compare to someone like Mihama-san, but coming from Himeno-san, that was high praise. Her remark also made me realize that I was fortunate enough to be able to focus on my studies, even if my grades weren't nearly as good as Suzuhara-san's.

"Shiho wasn't just smart or hard-working," Himeno-san said. "She also had a good sense of humor and was willing to treat everyone well. She never ended up coming over for a few reasons- she didn't have time and felt a bit intimidated by my family- but we got along well."

"I'm sure you did," I said. "I wish I could have met her."

"Next is my archery team captain, Mitsuru Mitsuzuri," Himeno-san said. "She was humble enough to admit that she still had room to improve, and could learn from her kohai; she even joked that she should be calling me 'senpai.' That said, she confident enough to stand by her decision to choose me to represent the school, which was why no one complained to her face. While I felt obligated to treat her as more of an authority figure than a friend- not unlike Kanae often did with me- I saw her as a good example of what a leader should be."

I nodded and made note of that for future reference. Maybe I couldn't live up to Mitsuzuri-san's example, assuming Himeno-san hadn't over-idealized her, but I did understand that a leader could be humble without being spineless, and confident without being arrogant.

"And, of course, there's people like Akira, Sayuri and, of course, you, Chiyuri," Himeno-san said. "All of you strike me as kind people, especially considering how well you treat Kanae."

"I'm honored," I said, "but I didn't know Tsukimura-san very well."

"It isn't a high standard to surpass," Himemiya-san said. "All you need to do are two things- know that Kanae is a servant and not treat her any differently. Sayuri gets high marks for befriending her, while you and Akira, at the very least, pass by a reasonable margin."

"What about Asakura?" I said. "I guess he'd fail, wouldn't he?"

"Yes and no," Himeno-san said. "His personality is repulsive, and I can't get along with him, but while he managed the improbable feat of alienating Kanae, he never looked down on her for being my maid. He passes the 'Kanae test' by the smallest possible margin, but his score on the personality test is a zero, so he fails the course. I don't think of the former as admirable- just one modicum of common decency that gives me one less reason to hate him."

I wasn't exactly impressed by Asakura's passing one half of the test- merely disgusted by those who had failed. Being commended for treating your lesser well was not only honoring something that should be common decency, but a privilege that only the privileged could enjoy, as Himeno-san knew.

"If it makes you feel any better," Himeno-san said, "this is one area in which Asakura-san can never compete with you."

I giggled.

"It really was nothing much," I said, "but thank you."

"You're welcome, Chiyuri," Himeno-san said. "You may not need words of gratitude for showing basic decency to others, but that doesn't mean you don't deserve to hear them."

A part of me still wondered why people like Himeno-san, who seemed as though they might be popular or admired, would be interested in someone like me, but I'd found the answer, at least in Himeno-san's case. All I needed to do was be the person she saw me as.

* * *

**EVENT 5: It took a while, but Himeno-san and I are truly friends, and I'm happy for that.**

Himeno-san invited me over to her cabin, making me possibly the first person to set foot inside in days, if not weeks.

"I'm curious, Himeno-san," I said. "How many people are you on a first-name basis with?"

"Let's see..." Himeno-san said. "You, Kanae, Hitomi, Shiho, Akira, Sayuri and the twins."

"Ah, so not many, then," I said. "Since I only use first names with, you Akira-san, Sayuri-san and the twins, we're pretty much the same."

Himeno-san smiled, as if to concur. It wasn't lost on us that we had more than a few friends in common.

"Well, not all friends have to get on a first-name basis," Himeno-san said. "I got along well with my archery team captain, but she felt a bit weird about being called by her first name, so I called her 'Mitsuzuri-senpai,' when I didn't call her 'Captain,' and she called me 'Himemiya-san.' She joked even her parents called her 'Mitsuzuri-san.'"

I giggled. The idea of a parent calling a child by their shared surname wasn't completely unheard of, but Mitsuzuri-san's parents going that far was still amusing to imagine.

"In all seriousness, though, people do have different approaches to friendship," Himeno-san said. "Some want a lot, while others are content with just a few. Some are willing to spill their guts to their friends, while others are relatively distant. Some let their hair down while around their friends, while others are still somewhat formal. You shouldn't feel ashamed about not having many friends."

"I'm not, Himeno-san," I said, "just sad that I couldn't find people I could like and trust until now. Of course, I do want to make good friends, which is why I'm glad I befriended you."

"As am I, Chiyuri," Himeno-san said.

We shook hands. By now, I'd gotten past questioning whether I deserved to be friends with Himemiya-san and realized it for what it was. She'd chosen to befriend me, and all I needed to do was be worthy of that choice.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Himemiya was originally going to be more blunt and rude, forgoing honorifics for acquaintances, as well as a bit more of a jerk than she ended up being. However, I decided to have her use honorifics, partly because of her strict upper-class upbringing and partly to make her a foil to Hoshino from Where Talent Goes To Die. Both of them are brutally honest, but while Hoshino speaks rudely and ultimately betrays the group to seek graduation, Himemiya speaks formally and cares about others.

Originally, her Free Time Events were going to feature her archery in more detail, but it does have different significance for each version of her Free Time Events. Azuki learns that Himemiya's archery is something she mastered independent of her family, while Chiyuri learns that it's a space in which she's judged for what she can do, not who she's related to.


	28. Free Time Events: Miharu Mihama (Side C)

**Free Time Events: Miharu Mihama (Side C)**

**EVENT 1: Mihama-san can't help but feel that some of her accomplishments are only special because she's a child.**

I asked Mihama-san a little about her talent. While not many people would consider the law to be a fascinating conversation topic, Mihama-san shared a few bits of interesting legal trivia that she learned.

"I'm impressed, Mihama-san," I said. "You really know a lot about the law."

"It... is not worthy of such high praise, Nagato-san," Mihama-san said. "Since a chilld cannot become a lawyer, prosecutor, judge or other such law-related occupations, the school cannot recognize my talent in those areas. This title is what might be considered the next best thing."

Mihama-san was right about that. Certain jobs required training that only adults could obtain, which was why there were no Ultimate Doctors that I knew of- even Hope's Peak's Ultimate Nurse was a talented, if untrained, girl my age.

"Perhaps it is," I said. "Still, that's just how the Ultimate titles work. They are given to exceptionally talented youths with the hope that they will soar to even greater heights in adulthood. Whether eleven, sixteen, or perhaps older, any deserving Ultimate is chosen with the principle in mind."

"Yes, I am aware," Mihama-san said, "but I cannot help but notice that the bar often seems to be set lower for the Ultimates than it would be for adults. Myself aside, Kirishima-san's accomplishments would be merely satisfactory for an adult researcher in genetics."

"You raise a good point," I said, "but in many ways, people expecting great things of you is, well, great. Perhaps it can be difficult to meet lofty expectations, but having them placed on you signifies that people believe you're good for something. After all, you wouldn't have been able to advance in grades so quickly if people didn't recognize hat you could do it?"

Mihama-san had to concede my point. Mom had always told me that growing up involved increasing both your responsibilities and your skills, a process that was especially fast for Mihama-san. She taught me not to place too much value on what others thought of me, especially when it came to the fact that I didn't have a father, but made it clear that I would have to prove myself when the time came to get into high school or get a job.

"You... are correct about that," Mihama-san said. "I apologize if I seem ungrateful."

"I never said you were," I said. "I just think that it's important for the talented to consider the perspective the talentless have, and vice versa."

For a moment, Mihama-san glanced at me skeptically, but then nodded.

"Fair enough," Mihama-san said. "There are times when I imagine how my life would have gone if... if things had been different."

I suspected that Mihama was about to say something other than "if I was not an Ultimate," or "if I was not smart enough to skip grades," but decided to leave her be for now, and she changed the subject. Each of us had our secrets, and she would reveal hers when she was ready.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Mihama-san skipped several grades, resulting in her feeling like an outsider among the older students.**

Mihama-san shared some stories about her old schools. Unlike most of us, her first year of high school wasn't the only time she'd only spent a year with the same class.

"If you do not mind my asking, Nagato-san," Mihama-san said, "do you have many friends at school?"

"Not many," I said. "Apart from the fact that I'm... well, because of my family circumstances, not many got close to me."

I wasn't quite ready to tell Mihama-san about my father just yet. Since she had many things she hadn't told me, either, she simply nodded and continued.

"I am similar in that regard," Mihama-san said. "Before I began skipping grades, I had several friends, but I parted ways with them as my rate of advancement exceeded theirs. Eventually, I was a younger girl surrounded by older peers, most of whom had already formed cliques, and it was difficult to connect with them."

"What do you mean?" I said.

"I will use Sasaki-san as an example," Mihama-san said. "She is rather informal with us, addressing us by our first names and '-chan.' You are her age, while I am a few years younger than her, but she chooses to treat me as though I am a friend in her age group. She asked me for permission before using my first name, and if I said no, she would have respected my wishes."

"Ah, yes," I said. "How does she get along with older people?"

"That is another story entirely," Mihama-san said. "If you were one or two years older than her, she would call you 'Nagato-senpai' or 'Nagato-san,' depending on whether you went to the same school, unless you insisted on being called something different. If you were five or more years older than her, you might even hear her call you 'ma'am,' depending on the circumstances."

While it was had to imagine her treating me differently, I'd always noticed her act a bit more polite around Mom, such as calling me "Chiyuri-san," rather than "Chiyuri-chan."

"True," I said, "and what about you?"

"Perhaps I would be more relaxed if you were my age or younger," Mihama-san said, "but in the end, being a young girl among older teenagers is a part of who I am, and it's a part that I play."

I nodded in agreement. There were times when I wondered how my life might have turned out if my father had lived, but the only thing I was certain about was that I would have likely become a very different person. While I wasn't completely happy with the person I was, I knew that there was no point in wondering what might have been. Perhaps Mihama-san felt the same way.

* * *

**EVENT 3: While skipping grades hasn't always been easy for Mihama-san, she's determined to stick with that path.**

Mihama-san and I talked about some of our old acquaintances, speculating about what they were up to now.

"I suppose you' have noticed that one's grade is generally tied to one's age," Mihama-san said. "In most cases, you go to school with people of the same age, would you not?"

"Yes, I would," I said, "but I suppose you're the exception, aren't you?"

" _An_ exception," Mihama-san said, "since not only are there those who advance quickly, but those who lag behind. One of my friends when I was young, Ayumu-chan, had an older sister, Koyomi-san. Back when I first met her, Koyomi-san treated me like a kid, calling me 'Miharu-chan.' She was not disrespectful, but it was clear that part of the reason why she addressed me more informally was because I was younger."

I was a bit surprised to hear Mihama-san refer to one of her yearmates so informally. Part of the reason was because I was used to her being more polite than average with her older classmates at Talent High School. Another part was that I imagined she was cut from the same cloth as I was, going the extra mile to be polite and keeping people at a distance, but in her case, it was only due to being younger than us.

"What happened next?" I said.

"Around the time I advanced to my final year of middle school, Koyomi-san was held back in her second year," Mihama-san said, "so her 'kid sister's friend' ended up becoming her senpai. She ended up calling me 'Mihama-senpai' instead, which ended up feeling a bit awkward. Of course, a year later, I graduated, and stopped seeing her altogether."

Mihama-senpai sounded a bit sad. In truth, there weren't many people in my classes that I missed seeing, especially not after I transferred schools in elementary school, but I could imagine why she wouldn't want to say goodbye to her friends. The only thing I couldn't imagine was why she'd chosen to do so anyway.

"If you don't mind my asking," I said, "why go to all the trouble to get through school as quickly as possible?"

Mihama-san was at a loss for words.

"You raise a good question," Mihama-san said. "I had long thought that childhood, a period in which you are dependent on your parents- if you are lucky enough to have them- is not only fleeting, but is meant to be. I had always assumed that the sooner I could rise up past the period, the sooner I would become of use to Mother and Father."

"And what about now?" I said.

"I do not regret my decisions," Mihma-san said. "The path I am on may not be easy, but it is one I have chosen for myself, out of the belief that it would be best for myself and my family."

We let the conversation end there, since Mihama-san had answered my question as much as she was willing to, but once again, there were things she had not told me. Despite that, I hoped that she would eventually trust me enough to tell me the rest.

* * *

**EVENT 4: Mihama-san confesses that since her father was imprisoned, she's had to grow up too fast.**

Mihama-san and I met up once again. After exchanging greetings, Mihama-san picked up right where we'd left off.

"I have been thinking about your question, Nagato-san," Mihama-san said, "since I often wonder it myself. Papa often said that I should simply take things at my own pace, like a normal girl."

"Papa?" I said.

"I-I meant to say _Father_ ," Mihama-san said. "It was my intention to refer to my father respectfully."

"Why is that?" I said. "My mom's perfectly fine with being called 'Mom' at home, as long as I call her 'Nagato-sensei' at school. Or does your father demand more respect?"

Mihama-san shook her head, then sighed.

"I may as well be honest and tell you the whole story," Mihama-san said. "When I was six, Papa was convicted of a crime and sentenced to ten years in prison. As you can imagine, Mama struggled to raise and provide for me by herself, so I sought to do anything I could to grow up quickly and lessen her burden."

"I think I know where you're coming from," I said. "My mom's also a single mother, and the only difference is that my dad's gone forever."

"I am sorry to hear that," Mihama-san said. "My life has been difficult without my father, as has my mother's, but at the very least, we can look forward to the day when Papa returns to us, and be grateful for that."

I was honestly surprised, not to mention happy, that I was able to provide this modicum of comfort to Mihama-san. Most of those who expressed pity for others were relatively comfortable themselves, but Mihama-san had concluded that I was worse off than her, and so was able to appreciate what she had. Perhaps it wasn't realistic for everyone to have equal fortune, but if the haves had genuine empathy- not pity- for the have-nots, while the have-nots showed similar compassion to anyone who was troubled, the world might be a kinder place.

"I hope that day comes, soon," I said, "but what will you and your father do when it arrives?"

"Papa hopes to make up for lost time," Mihama-san said, "since he left us when I was a young girl, and I will be a teenager by the time he is released. As for me, while I know that he was convicted and imprisoned because of a mistake he made, I will strive to forgive him and accept his efforts with an open mind and heart. I suppose that will involve letting him be my father."

As I expressed approval for Mihama-san's promise, I knew that in some ways, she was lucky, since her father would eventually come home, unlike mine. I'd long accepted that there was nothing in the world that could bring Dad back, and that it was pointless to begrudge others for their good fortune, so there was no reason not to be happy for her. If anything, I hoped to have as clear of a plan for the future as she did, but that was something I would have to figure out on my own.

* * *

**EVENT 5: Mihama-san has come to terms with herself. She's changed, so maybe I can, too.**

Mihama-san had me come over to her cabin, where we sat on the bed together. She only had a potted plant and a movie poster, which she said were meant to make her cabin feel like home as long as she was on the cruise.

"I've come to an epiphany, Nagato-san," Mihama-san said, in a more casual tone than I'd heard from her in our previous conversations. "All this time, I've been acting childishly."

"Really, Mihama-san?" I said. "You seem like the most mature person I've met.

"I'm talking about my attempts to seem more mature," Mihama-san said. "It's all well and good to want to be a bit more independent, but I have to admit that part of it was nothing more than pride. I often felt pressured to appear respectable in front of my older peers, and considering that my classmates are similarly talented Ultimates, that pressure was especially high."

I knew all too well how Mihama-san felt. As far as I knew, her talent for the law was genuinely Ultimate-level, unlike mine, but she still felt out of place among us. Perhaps it would be a stretch to call us equals, but I had more in common with my classmates than I realized.

"I won't judge you for that," I said. "Your circumstances aside, I've always been conscious of how I come across to others. My mom always taught me that good manners were important, and I've felt compelled to go the extra mile to fit in."

"I've noticed," Mihama-san said. "Because you kept your distance from most of us, I wasn't sure whether you'd welcome my attempting to get closer, but now, I realize that we're similar in many regards. I'm glad we became friends."

"Me too, Mihama-san," I said.

As we shook hands, I realized that in her own way, Mihama-san, one of the most mature members of this class, not to mention for her age, had managed to change herself and become more of a grown-up in the process. I knew I still had my own baggage weighing me down, which wouldn't be as easy to get rid of as hers, but I could follow her example, take a step forward on my own, and eventually become a person I could be proud of.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

This is another FTE chain in which Chiyuri's version touches on a different aspect of the character from Azuki's version. Her growing up with a single mother, and to a lesser extent, her admiration of Mihama, help shape the course this one takes. In this case, what is discussed in Azuki and Mihama's conversation from Chapter III, Part 1 also helps color this, as the two have a surprising amount in common (not only are their fathers not in their lives, but they also feel out of place among their peers).


	29. Free Time Events: Nobuhiro Higurashi (Side C)

**Free Time Events: Nobuhiro Higurashi (Side C)**

**EVENT 1: While I haven't talked with Higurashi-san all that much, I do understand that he's an upstanding and honorable young man. Then again, I sometimes wonder why he chose me to work under him.**

Higurashi-san and I decided to sit down and talk. While we'd worked somewhat closely as leaders of the student body, we hadn't talked about ourselves all that much. He'd told me about his service on the student council of his old school, as well as the girl he'd helped win the presidency, but little else.

"I'm curious, Nagato-san," Higurashi-san said. "Were you at all involved with the student council at your old school?"

"They did occasionally ask me for help with the computers," I said, "but no, I was not an official member."

"I see," Higurashi-san said. "Why's that?"

My first idea was to ask, "Because only a handful of students out of the hundreds at the school join the student council?" but then I realized that, while true, it wouldn't answer his question.

"Because they didn't have a job for me," I said. "If you don't have what it takes to win the presidency, you can only get a job by currying favor with the president, or being so well-recognized for your aptitude for a certain student council officer job- vice president, treasurer, secretary, et cetera- that they'd take notice of you. Didn't you say that was the case for you?"

"I did," Higurashi-san said. "I got to know Izumi-senpai before she officially announced her campaign, and then was able to demonstrate my skill at public speaking to show that I wasn't all talk, no pun intended. After that, she was more than willing to have me work with her. Did you have any such opportunities to prove yourself?"

I shook my head.

"Not at all," I said. "I once asked my student council president about whether she had any permanent positions available for someone like me, and she said no. She said there were many applicants for each of the student council officer positions, so she had to turn many qualified candidates away. As a first-year, I had the option of helping out by doing chores and learning the internal workings of the student council, but there was no guarantee that she'd have a job."

"That's unfortunate," Higurashi-san said. "One would think that she would have made you the official tech support person of the student council. It's not as though she'd have to pay you."

"I know," I said, "but when multiple people- several, dozens or even hundreds- apply for one position, the hiring manager has to choose who's best. It's a harsh decision, but also the way to make sure that the best qualified person gets hired."

"You have a point," Higurashi-san said. "That's part of the reason why I am glad for the existence of rival candidates for leadership, even if they are opponents I must defeat. Democratic governments run best when people choose the candidate they think is best, instead of one candidate winning by default."

I sighed.

"Unfortunately, I think we both know how I got my position as your second-in-command," I said. "There wasn't anyone better out there to compete with me, was there?"

"Maybe not, Nagato-san," Higurashi-san said, "but you've proven a loyal and dependable partner. I'd recommend you to Izumi-senpai if we went to the same school, and she'd probably have taken you on."

"I'm glad you think so," I said. "There aren't many people who'd have much confidence in my skills."

I thought back to how many people had expressed doubts in Higurashi-san's leadership- six people, some of whom weren't with us anymore. While not all of them were the most pleasant individuals, they hadn't been wrong to doubt whether Higurashi-san and I could lead us well in a situation like this, in which death and betrayal were all too common. That said, I trusted Higurashi-san, and hoped that by following his lead, we would be able to work toward a common goal, rather than turn on each other.

* * *

**EVENT 2: At my request, Higurashi-san is giving me lessons on how to speak. He believes that it is important to speak eloquently in order to convince people to listen to what you have to say.**

At my request, Higurashi-san gave me some lessons on how to speak in front of others. These included how to speak clearly to others, and how to stay calm when addressing large groups of people. After a little while, he finally decided to ask me about why I'd sought him out.

"If you don't mind my asking, Nagato-san," Higurashi-san said, "what led you to seek my help for speaking?"

"The class trials," I said. "I want to be able to speak well enough to convince the others to accept what I'm saying. I know it's difficult to unquestioningly trust anyone in these trials, and I may not always be right, but I want to help people, and that requires convincing them that my intentions are good."

That's a noble goal," Higurashi-san said, "and one that I'm willing to support. There's little more tragic than a good idea being rejected because it isn't convincing enough. I don't mean to brag, but if Izumi-senpai hadn't gotten some help with public speaking, she most likely would never have been elected."

"It's good that she did," I said. "I'm glad you were able to help Izumi-san."

Higurashi nodded, but didn't seem completely happy about what was probably his proudest moment.

"So am I," Higurashi said, "but the experience illustrates the power of communication. A politician who genuinely wants to make the world a better place won't get anywhere without the support of the electorate or the rest of the government, whereas a self-serving politician can get elected by using honeyed words to trick voters into giving their support."

"That sounds like something Karita-san would say," I said.

"He certainly would," Higurashi-san said, "but whereas Karita-kun cynically believes that goes to show how easily people can be deceived and manipulated, I simply believe that it means that those who fight for truth and justice must choose their words well. Mihama-san was quite eloquent, so I believe that she could have become an excellent lawyer, and Azuki-san's gift for acting could have served her well in other occupations."

I nodded sadly, thinking about our lost friends, as well as their unrealized potential and the loved ones they left behind.

"I know," I said. "All I want to do is make sure no one else will suffer their fate. That's probably too much to ask for, though, so if another murder does happen, I'd like to ensure that the spotless survive."

"A good goal, Nagato-san," Higurashi-san said. "Because I trust you, please allow me to do what I can to help you achieve that."

While Higurashi-san was all too aware of how oratory skills could be used to deceive people, by choosing to teach his skills to me, he expressed his hope that I would use them well. In return, I would devote myself to learning what he had to teach me, and making the most of it.

* * *

**EVENT 3: Higurashi-san has always struggled with public speaking. These past few days have only made him more aware of his shortcomings.**

Higurashi-san gave me some more public speaking lessons, only for me to end up tripping over my own words. Evidently noticing I was having trouble, he decided to have us take a break.

"I'm sorry I'm not doing very well today, Higurashi-san," I said.

"It's perfectly fine, Nagato-san," Higurashi-san said. "Everyone has trouble with public speaking from time to time, and I'm no exception."

I couldn't help but think that statement sounded like a platitude coming from the Ultimate Public Speaker, so I was hesitant to take it at face value.

"Let me guess," I said. "You're going to tell me that you used to have trouble speaking in front of people?"

"You're partly right," Higurashi-san said. "I _still do_. I've always been nervous about speaking in front of others, and that hasn't changed."

I was speechless for a moment.

"Really?" I said. "You don't seem like you're having trouble."

"Appearances can be deceiving," Higurashi-san said. "Fear isn't an emotion that can be conquered; it must be controlled. Azuki-san probably knew that, too, and was able to keep her stage fright in check whenever she performed."

I nodded, and thought back to the last one-on-one conversation I'd had with Akira-san before her death, when she'd told me that she'd been scared, too. She'd felt that terror even more intensely during her final minutes, but kept it in check so we wouldn't be troubled by her passing.

"I'm sure she did," I said, "but while I'm not an expert on Talent High School, I doubt they would be interested in someone who once had trouble."

"I actually admitted my troubles to the person who scouted me," Higurashi-san said, "and he said it wasn't a problem. In fact, he was impressed by how much I'd improved."

"I would be, too," I said, "especially since I'm still not on your level."

Higurashi-san remained silent for a moment, until his face lit up.

"You know, I just remembered what he told me," Higurashi-san said. "He said that all of us begin with nothing and what matters is how much we ultimately make of ourselves. To use an example, Kumakura-kun wasn't always very strong, but became the Ultimate Weightlifter through hard work."

The thought was encouraging, but also depressing. Compared to the Ultimates, who'd mastered their skills, what had I made of my own life?

"You're right," I said. "I wonder what that says about the people who struggle with the lightest possible weights in the gym, though."

"It's possible their strengths lie elsewhere," Higurashi-san said. "After all, there are many poor athletes who are excellent students, and vice versa."

"Perhaps," I said, "but many people never accomplish anything significant in their entire lives."

"Indeed," Higurashi-san said, "and the Ultimates are no exeptions."

Higurashi-san decided to resume our practice before I could ask him about it, but we didn't get far before he decided to call it a day. It was clear, however, that while I was probably the only Ultimate who didn't deserve her title, I was not the only one who considered herself a failure- not when Higurashi-san felt the same way.

* * *

**EVENT 4: Higurashi-san wonders if he's a failure. It's hard to put a positive spin on what we've accomplished in the killing game, but we can't give up, either.**

I met up with Higurashi-san, who told me he wasn't in the mood for speech lessons.

"Is something the matter, Higurashi-san?" I said.

"I'm concerned about something, Nagato-san," Higurashi-san said. "You can correct me if I'm wrong, but I have noticed that you seem to be placing me on a pedestal."

"You aren't wrong about that," I said, "but it's not just you. Everyone else here, even Asakura, who has the same talent as I do, seems impressive compared to me."

Higurashi-san shook his head.

"Well, I can't speak for the rest of us," Higurashi-san said, "but I'm hardly admirable. Ever since the killing game started, I've become painfully aware that public speaking is my only strong suit, and there is no substance behind my words. I could convince the admissions committee to let me attend the school, but only because they made it clear what I would need to say. Here, I don't know what, if anything, I can say to convince the others not to give in to the temptation of the killing game."

"Neither do I," I said, "but you also chose to do something about it. You believed that we didn't have to kill each other, and that there was some other way for us to survive without sacrificing our classmates."

"Perhaps," Higurashi-san said, "but the killing game ended up happening anyway. Azuki-san had little faith in me, and she was right."

"That may be so," I said, "but it takes a certain quality to be able to appeal to others. As much as Akira-san disagreed with you, she knew she couldn't serve well as a leader. She was capable of pointing out the harsh truth, but even if she managed to convince everyone to accept that, she didn't have the ability to get the others to follow her on anything that wasn't a class trial."

I always thought of Akira-san as someone who did what she thought was best while paying no attention to what others thought, but that probably wasn't entirely true. Not only were her deductions in the class trials only useful if she was able to convince the rest of us to vote with her, but she also had to appeal to the public as an actress. Much of her success came from being good at her job, but she also had to appeal to others, something that her mother probably helped her with when it came to showbiz. Of course, she didn't see much point in winning over people who disliked her, especially when the feeling was mutual, so it wasn't hard to see why she wasn't much of a leader.

"You're right about that," Higurashi-san said, "but even if I am doing better than Azuki-san would have, I am still nowhere near satisfied with how things turned out."

"It's only natural that you'd feel that way," I said, "since anyone who cares about protecting others would be disappointed at having failed them. The shame of failure should be an impetus for you to try even harder next time."

"It is," Higurashi-san said, "but what about those who have died? There's nothing we can do to bring them back, or fully make up for our failure. I doubt they would be happy that all we can do is simply try harder."

"I don't think, so, either," I said, "but that's all we can do for them. I'm sure that none of the dead victims would want anyone else to suffer their fates, and that few of the executed killers would want anyone to repeat their mistakes. For their sake, we simply need to do better."

"Then that's what we should do," Higurashi-san said. "Thank you for reminding me of this."

While we'd often thought of the dead as a testament to how much we'd failed, it was only because we'd convicted each of the killers and sacrificed them that we were still alive. In a way, we owed them our lives, so we owed it to them and ourselves to try to do better, even if we didn't know how.

* * *

**EVENT 5: Higurashi-san trusts me as his partner, and hopes I will carry on his work should anything happen to him.**

Higurashi-san invited me to his cabin, where he held one final lesson. After I delivered my speech, he gave me a round of applause.

"Congratulations, Nagato-san," Higurashi-san said. "You've learned all you can from me."

"Thank you very much, Higurashi- _sensei_ ," I said, "but I'm still nowhere near your level. That's due to my limitations as a student rather than yours as a teacher."

"You flatter me," Higurashi-san said, "but if you still believe there's a gap between us, it's one that you'll have to close by refining your technique on your own. Teachers merely teach the fundamentals; the students make those teachings their own."

To me, it sounded as though Higurashi-san had found his answer to his struggles as a leader. He didn't have the solution yet, but he'd continue searching for it anyway, and I'd do everything I could to assist him.

"That may be true," I said, "but I'm not sure what I'd do without you, if I end up having to succeed you as leader."

"I hope you never have to," Higurashi-san said, "but should it happen, I'm sure you'll do right by our classmates and save as many as you can. You are Nagato-sensei's daughter, after all, as well as the girl who's been by my side this entire time. I'm glad I chose you to lead this class with me."

"I appreciate hearing that," I said, "but since I respect you and enjoy working under- no, _alongside_ \- you, I'm not ready to go solo just yet."

"I know," Higurashi-san said, "so believe me when I say that I won't throw my life away. Let's continue leading this class as long as we can, together."

Even though I knew that Higurashi-san couldn't necessarily keep this promise, I believed that he was being honest when he made it, as he'd always been. There were few people I trusted more than him, so I desperately hoped he could escape from this killing game with me and with as many of our classmates as possible.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

This FTE chain mainly deals with one theme in this fic- belief in yourself isn't always enough, and sometimes, you need talent and skill to accomplish your goals. It also explores the Higurashi-Chiyuri partnership.


	30. Free Time Events: Shigeru Kojima (Side C)

**Free Time Events: Shigeru Kojima (Side C)**

**EVENT 1: Kojima-san is determined to make a game that's better than any out there.**

Kojima-san and I talked about game design for a little while. Despite being a technophile, I had never actually played a video game before, so I found it fascinating.

"I want to ask you something, Nagato," Kojima-san said. "Have you ever looked at a video game or other creative work, and thought 'I could do a lot better'?"

I shook my head.

"Not at all, Kojima-san," I said. "Maybe you'd be better off asking Sasaki-san about romance manga or the twins about J-rock."

"I did," Kojima-san said. "Sasaki modestly said 'I try to do the best I can,' but I know her goal's to be the best. As for Taiga and her sister, they've got their own niche when it comes to music. They're not completely unique, but each of them aims for the top."

That sort of ambition was probably common to all Ultimates, even those whose talents lay in fields where success was determined purely by technical standards, and there was little to no room for creative expression.

"I know they do," I said. "What about you?"

"I'm the same," Kojima-san said, "in that I want to make the best game I can, as well as one that innovates and breaks new ground. If you want to succeed, you need your unique identity, even if it'll probably be similar to something in the past."

"True," I said. "I mean, if you're making something that's similar to a popular game from not too long ago, why would people buy it?"

"That's the question everyone who seeks to practice their skills to make a living needs to be able to answer," Kojima-san said. "Why do you deserve a job at a video game company more than the dozens who are also applying? Why should the company go with your pitch for a new video game? Why should gamers give their time and money for the privilege of playing your company's games? I guess the questions might be different for different fields, but they all boil down to the same principle."

Kojima-san seemed to understand this well, which probably part of what set him apart from the many dreamers who were unable to achieve what he had. As for the rest, it probably boiled down to hard work and skill, showing that the Ultimates were people who dreamed big dreams, and had what they needed to make those dreams reality.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Kojima-san's magnum opus started when he joined up with his friends in the same club. Together, they accomplished what they couldn't hope to do alone.**

Kojima-san and I discussed how he made certain aspects of his game. It was an interesting discussion, although there were some questions he couldn't fully answer.

"I'm curious, Nagato," Kojima-san said. "Do you have any tech support friends or anything like that?"

I shook my head. For a moment, I feared that he'd realized that my title wasn't genuine, but I decided to humor him as best as I could.

"Unfortunately, no, Kojima-san," I said. "You can't staff a call center with one person, but in the end, everyone's responsible for dealing with their individual callers. Besides, I don't have many friends at my old school with similar interests."

"Ah," Kojima-san said. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"I'm guessing it was different for you?" I said.

Kojima-san nodded.

"Back in middle school, I was part of a gaming club full of aspiring game developers," Kojima-san said. "We learned our various trades- programming, graphic design, you name it- and made training projects, such as a shmup or a maze game."

"Ah," I said, "I suppose you had to get started somewhere."

"That's right," Kojima-san said. "It's a bit like how in RPGs, you start off fighting weak monsters, and it takes many hours before you get to the truly exciting battles. In this case, however, it was more like we were sparring with wooden swords, like squires or even pages who are training to become knights. It's an important step to honing your skills, but at the same time, you definitely don't want to be stuck at that step forever."

I had to agree. If I was lucky enough to train to be a knight in a medieval society (assuming my family was of high enough status and the society allowed women to fight), I would humbly follow my knight's commands and diligently apply myself to my training, all dreaming of the day I would be known as Dame Chiyuri and fight for the kingdom. I, too, had ambitions of my own; I just wasn't entirely confident in my ability to achieve them.

"Anyway, I eventually proposed the idea of making our own game," Kojima-san said, "namely, Realm of Three Kings. My proposal didn't include all the small details that the game became known for, because I didn't know whether my friends would consider it an idea worth pursuing, but they did. Our clubmates got together, along with some of our friends from outside the club, and the rest is history."

"I'm glad you all accomplished your goal," I said.

"Yeah, me too," Kojima-san said. "Since it's a team effort, we all had to work well together and make sacrifices, but in the end, each of us was doing it for our own reasons, and personally wanted to see it succeed."

I wondered about some of the people who had similarly grand ideas, but were never able to realize them. Some lacked the talent, others lacked the resources, and still others were unable to win the right people over. It was truly a shame that so many good ideas went unexpressed, even if I didn't know what to do about that.

* * *

**EVENT 3: Realm of Three Kings was an ambitious undertaking, one Kojima-san couldn't have done alone. Of course, it's still amazing that all those people were able to combine their talents to make something like it.**

Kojima-san told me a little about how Realm of Three Kings, specifically some of the smaller details. He kept it simple and easy to understand, but while this meant refraining from going into the more technical aspects, I was amazed by how much effort the project had taken.

"I'm impressed, Kojima-san," I said. "That sounds like a lot of work."

"It was," Kojima-san said, "but it also got a lot more manageable with multiple people working on it. It's a bit like how in a strategy game, a building that takes a minute to construct with one villager working on it might only take ten seconds if you have six villagers working on it, or six seconds if you have ten villagers working on it."

I understood the principle, simplified as it was. Of course, not only did buildings take much more time to build, a construction crew that was too small would struggle to get the job done, while one that was too large would be a logistical nightmare.

"In real life, it doesn't quite work out that way," Kojima-san said, "but having numbers helps, especially when those people bring a lot of different skills to the table. When you're making a video game, you can have different groups of people working on separate projects at the same time, especially when their skills are more specialized to various tasks. Of course, certain tasks have to be completed first- you can't animate a boss monster until that monster has a 3D model, and you can't make the model without a design- but if your crews do their jobs, you won't have to worry about that sort of thing holding you back."

"I guess not," I said. "Then again, it sounds as though there isn't any role someone like me could play in that process."

Kojima-san paused, and shook his head. I guess he wanted to disagree, but couldn't think of anything to say.

"Maybe there isn't," Kojima-san said, "apart from, y'know, getting us coffee or taking out the trash, but we handle that sort of thing ourselves. You could debug the game, but a friend of mine, who's an amateur speedrunner with a knack for finding glitches, has that covered."

"Fair enough," I said. "I don't think there's anything I could do for the gaming industry apart from a generic office job."

The thought of being an office lady for Kojima-san's gaming company and eventually finding a husband among my coworkers wasn't a bad one, but I knew that Kojima-san only had eyes for Azuki-san. I hoped that one day, he'd get over his desire for someone he couldn't have, but I knew that there were more fish in the sea. Besides, it wouldn't be easy for me to simply give up on my dream of becoming a teacher, not even if I was told in no uncertain terms that I couldn't achieve it.

"Oh, wait, I do have an idea," Kojima-san said. "You could be the president of our group. You'd come in every day, order the others around, set deadlines and such, and act like a boss. At the end, you'd take the credit for the group's success and get the Ultimate Game Designer title, easy-peasy."

"Really?" I said, somewhat incredulously. Kojima-san's tone had been reasonably serious and he'd kept a straight face while saying. On the other hand, while the idea of my getting credit for my subordinates' hard work was based in reality, I couldn't accept that he was actually suggesting I try it.

Kojima-san then nervously chuckled and shook his head firmly.

"N-Nah, just kidding," Kojima-san said. "I know, it's not a very good joke, but that's why Realm of Three Kings isn't a comedy."

I wasn't laughing, but I knew that it wasn't because the joke wasn't funny- it was because Kojima-san hadn't truly intended for it to be a joke. In his heart of hearts, he questioned whether he'd deserved his title, but didn't feel ready to discuss it out loud, so he claimed he wasn't serious and laughed it off. So I forced a smile, all the while hoping he would confide in me.

* * *

**EVENT 4: Kojima-san wasn't the only one who made his game a success, but he's the only one who got credit for it. He feels a bit guilty about that, not to mention worried about the future.**

When I next saw Kojima-san, he looked troubled, clearly remembering how awkwardly our previous conversation had ended.

"Is something the matter, Kojima-san?" I said. "You've been acting strangely since last time."

Kojima-san sighed, then nodded.

"Let me ask you a question, Nagato," Kojima-san said. "You heard me talk about how important my friends were to finishing the game?"

"That's right," I said. "What about that?"

"Well, here's the next question," Kojima-san said. "Do you see any of them here in our class? You know, the Ultimate Programmer, the Ultimate Character Designer, the Ultimate Video Game Music Composer, the Ultimate Script Writer, you know?"

I shook my head. I didn't know all the people who worked on video games, but Kojima-san was the only person in our class who was in a video game-related job. As for Hope's Peak, I'd heard of a girl who was the Ultimate Gamer, but didn't know about anyone who _made_ video games, let alone any of Kojima-san's friends. Besides, only two pairs of people had attended the same school- one was the twins, and the other was Himemiya-san and Tsukimura-san.

"No," I said. "I take it that's the problem?"

Kojima-san nodded.

"You bet," Kojima-san said. "To be honest, there's more than one problem. First, none of my friends are getting the credit they deserve, even though they played a crucial role to my success. I asked the recruiter about it, and said they'd only decided to invite me to the school. He didn't really elaborate when I pressed him; he just said they weren't good enough, in as many words."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said. "Didn't the twins get in together?"

"Yeah," Kojima-san said. "Dragon Girl isn't just a good performer, but the songs are well-written, too, so Taiga deserves as much of the credit as Tatsuki does. Sasaki also said that if she was an artist working with a writer, and that writer was high school age, she'd have asked for that person to be invited as an Ultimate, too. She'd also have nominated her assistants, but none of them are in high school."

Very few creative endeavors were one-person productions. While it was, hypothetically speaking, possible for me to write a novel by myself, I'd need an editor's help to refine it enough to get it published. Kojima was vastly more talented at game design than I was (not that it was saying much), but that fact still applied to him.

"So you couldn't make your masterpiece by yourself," I said. "Is there anything wrong with getting help from your talented friends and colleagues?"

"No, but that's related to the second problem," Kojima-san said. "It might sound kinda selfish, and that's probably because it is. But how the hell am I going to keep up my Ultimate Game Designer rep without them?"

I paused to think my answer through. If I tried to act like a know-it-all and commented on something outside of my field of expertise then at best, Kojima-san wouldn't believe me, and at worst, he'd get offended. There were worse things that could happen, but I wanted to help him, so I'd have to choose my words carefully.

"Maybe the school chose you based on how well you made Realm of Three Kings," I said, "but I think that if you were able to manage your friends well enough to bring out the best in them, a bit like the conductor of an orchestra, they saw that you had talent. They probably thought that if you were placed in charge of a team of equally talented strangers, you'd do just as well."

"Yeah, I guess so," Kojima-san said. "I don't know if they actually thought that deeply about it, but let's go with that."

Kojima-san didn't seem completely convinced, but I was relatively confident that my point was well-made, so I was sure that it would eventually sink in. Perhaps someday, once we made it back home he'd be thrust into a situation in which he'd have to succeed or fail by himself, and he'd see it through to the end by virtue of his own talent and determination.

* * *

**EVENT 5: Kojima-san's determined to do his best to prove that he deserves the title and make even better video games.**

Kojima-san invited me to his room, which had a poster of the game he'd published alongside his friends. It had a surprisingly professional appearance, enough so that I was amazed that he hadn't hired some freelancer to draw it.

"I've been thinking, Nagato," Kojima-san said. "Maybe it doesn't matter why I was chosen for the title, but what I do after being selected. You know how I brought up applying for jobs and such, earlier?"

'Yes," I said. "You have to prove that you're better than the competition, and stand out from everyone else."

While the Ultimate positions worked a bit differently due to not having publicized job openings- for example, Kojima-san probably didn't know that the school was looking for an Ultimate Game Designer until they paid him a visit- the same principle still applied. The Ultimates had to be famous and well-respected in their lines of work, since while the talent scouts were thorough, they also had high standards. Unlike job seekers, prospective Ultimates didn't have to submit a job application, so how well they did with that couldn't help (or hurt) their chances, and the interview phase of the application process mainly focused on getting them to demonstrate their talents. In the end, though, victory went to the most deserving, or at least the ones with the decision-makers' favor.

"That's right," Kojima-san said, "but that's only half the battle. Once you get hired, you have to prove that you can do your job, or else they might just fire you."

"I... I see," I said.

While Kojima-san probably hadn't intended to make me uncomfortable, I'd ended up thinking about such things anyway. Talent High School seldom expelled students(which meant revoking their titles) outside of extreme cases that were rather shameful for both the student and the school, but I did question whether there was any way of proving that I deserved my Ultimate Tech Support title.

"Don't worry about me," Kojima-san said. "All I have to do is keep on doing my best and making great games. I never had any desire to be just a one-hit wonder, so I won't rest on my laurels. With or without my friends, I'll make a game that puts Realm of Three Kings to shame."

"Good luck, Kojima-san," I said. "I'm rooting for you."

"Thanks, Nagato," Kojima-san said. "I don't know much about tech support, but I'm sure you'll accomplish great things there, too. If I do find a job I think you could do, I'll let you know."

We shook hands. Kojima-san didn't know me very well, but despite that, chose to put his faith in me. I didn't know how well-founded his belief was, but promised to do my best not to let him down.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

This was one of the first of Chiyuri's Free Time Events that I planned out, but it took a while to get the particulars down. Part of the reason why I planned this out is that Kojima will become relevant again in Chapter V.


	31. Free Time Events: Tatsuki Tachibana (Side C)

**Free Time Events: Tatsuki Tachibana(Side C)**

**EVENT 1: Both Tatsuki-san and I were relatively reserved in the past, but are now working to change that.**

_SPOILER ALERT: In addition to the Chapter III spoilers you should expect from Chiyuri's Free Time Events, this will also spoil the Chapter II victim and culprit, as well as the outcome of the trial._

Tatsuki-san and I spent a while together, talking about Dragon Girl. I was honest about how their music didn't really interest me before, as well as how I hoped to listen whenever I had a chance.

"You know, Nagato-san," Tatsuki-san said, "apart from the investigations, the trials and our meetings as a group, I don't believe the two of us have ever talked much before."

"Me neither, Tachibana-san," I said, "and I suppose I'm the reason why. Until after the third trial, I never spoke with people besides Akira-san very much."

"That may be true," Tatsuki-san said, "but I think you're only part of the reason. For much of the early trip, I wasn't all that close to many people besides Taiga."

"I didn't know that," I said. "You seemed outgoing compared to me. After all, you had friends in the past, didn't you?"

Tatsuki-san hesitantly nodded.

"I did," Tatsuki-san said, "but after Dragon Girl took off, Taiga and I had less time for socializing, so we lost touch with some of our friends. The few friends who were interested in music played a variety of instruments- Takami-san played piano, Ayame-san played trombone, and Kaori-san played violin- but none of them were the kind I'd need for a band. Besides, they admitted that they weren't nearly good enough."

Since I couldn't play an instrument and my singing was mediocre for a high schooler- maybe good enough to do karaoke without completely embarrassing myself- I knew I wouldn't be of any use to Tatsuki-san. That was probably for the best, since things would probably get awkward between us if I couldn't keep up and she had to kick me out of the band.

"Fair enough," I said. "By the way, I notice you using first names on your friends. Maybe you _were_ close after all?"

"Actually, not really," Tatsuki-san said. "My friends generally used first names on me and Taiga in order to keep us separate, but never got any less formal than using '-san.' I mainly asked permission to use first names because it'd be awkward otherwise, especially after meeting some of their parents, but stuck with '-san' because they did the same for me."

I couldn't help but think about myself and Akira-san; she'd never used honorifics on me while I'd always used "-san" on her, a fact that never changed even when we switched to first names. Akira-san could be rather rude sometimes, but she was also confident and outgoing, so I wished I had another chance to talk with her and just call her "Akira" at least once.

"That may be true," I said, "but you've had more success than I had in the past; Akira-san's the first peer I've been on a first name basis with. Besides, it's not too late to change and open up to others."

"I guess," Tatsuki-san said, "even if now isn't the best time, especially not for me."

Tatsuki-san changed the subject, but I could tell that she still hated herself for killing Kojima-san, causing her sister's death and endangering the rest of the group. It was true that she'd made bad decisions in the past, but did that mean that she deserved to die or be ostracized for that? I didn't think so, even before my best friend ended up being executed for a murder she'd inadvertently caused, so I hoped Tatsuki-san would realize that, too.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Like me, Tatsuki-san has made mistakes in the past. She also knows that it isn't always possible to fix them.**

We talked for a little bit about Dragon Girl, as well as the countless hours Tatsuki-san spent practicing. I'd always known that entertainers' careers took a lot more work than people thought, but apparently, it was more work than even I thought.

"This may be an overly personal question, Nagato-san," Tatsuki-san said, "but what would you say is the greatest mistake you made before coming here?"

I paused to think for a moment. On the one hand, she was right and it was a personal question, so I was within my rights to refuse to answer it. On the other hand, we'd all seen each other at our most vulnerable, and everyone who was still alive by now had witnessed Tatsuki-san's worst mistake, so it hardly seemd fair to keep mine secret.

"In elementary school, I got into a fight with another girl," I said. "She... said some things that struck a nerve, so I flew into a rage and attacked her."

"I... I see," Tatsuki-san said. "Was... the other girl badly hurt?"

"Not badly," I said. "Both of us got some bruises- she fought back, of course- but there wasn't any lasting damage, so we healed before long. I got suspended for a few days, was grounded while I was on suspension, had to write an apology letter to the other girl and ultimately had to transfer out... to a school where people had apparently heard about the incident and what had caused it."

Tatsuki-san nodded glumly.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Tatsuki-san said. "For me, the worst thing I did was try to cheat on a test in our last year of elementary school; I got caught while trying to patch Taiga my answers. Both of us got zeroes on the test, and were suspended; I'd tried to say that it was my idea and Taiga had nothing to do with it, but no one believed me. Our parents came down on us hard, especially my mom, and grounded us, too."

Tatsuki-san sounded utterly ashamed of herself, almost as if she wanted her mother or the school to give her an even harsher punishment.

"Mom gave us a lecture back then," Tatsuki-san said. "She told us that bad decisions have consequences, which is obvious enough, but also added that those consequences are often permanent. She pointed to a scar on her leg that she got in a bicycle accident, and while it's hidden when she wears pantyhose or long pants, she sees it as a reminder of her mistake. I'd like to say I never forgot that lecture, but..."

"Then the second trial happened?" I said.

Tatsuki-san sighed.

"That evening, netiher Taiga nor I were planning on killing anyone," Tatsuki-san said, "but then Kojima-kun came after Taiga with a knife, and you know the rest. I told myself that I was willing to die to protect Taiga and the rest of the spotless... but then Taiga easily convinced me to trick everyone and graduate. When I accepted, I proved what I really wanted- that I didn't want to die."

For a moment, it sounded as though Tatsuki-san was blaming Taiga-san, but I knew better. Switching places with Taiga-san hadn't been Tatsuki-san's idea, but she went with it hoping to graduate along with her sister.

"But if you didn't want to die, why offer your own life?" I said.

"It's because I find it difficult to live with what I did," Tatsuki-san said. "I've never been at all religious, so I figured that when I die, that'll be it. I won't be able to see the people I love or do the things I enjoy, but I'll also be free of my sorrow, regrets and grief. I used to think that was a scary thing, before I lost the person I love most, and realized how painful life could be."

I paused for a moment. As tempting as it was to share my own perspective on death as a Christian, I realized it wouldn't do much good for Tatsuki, especially if she concluded that her sister was now in Hell.

"It's possible that you're right," I said, "but there's no reason to hurry to find out. The killing game has reminded us all that life is fleeting, but that means we should treasure it."

"I know, Nagato-san," Tatsuki-san said, "which is why I still regret taking Kojima-kun's life."

We decided to leave the conversation here for now. While it felt as though I hadn't gotten anywhere with Tatsuki-san, at the very least, I knew she had a conscience. In the end, she was still trying to do the right thing, and the only question was whether she'd make the right choice.

* * *

**EVENT 3: Tatsuki-san knows that it's difficult to recover from mistakes, and that some people will never forgive you.**

This time, I decided to get Tatsuki-san's mind off the depressing topic of the killing game by bringing up some of her fellow performers. Unfortunately for me, one of the singers I mentioned, Queen Venus, destroyed her own career by virtue of having an affair with her married manager, resulting in his wife divorcing him.

"I... I had no idea," I said, after hearing about the scandal, which had happened late in our second year of middle school. "I guess I don't really follow entertainment news."

Tatsuki-san giggled nervously, as if to ask "What kind of rock have you been living under, Nagato-san?"

"Let me ask you something," Tatsuki-san said. "When you heard of Queen Venus, you mainly thought of her accomplishments, haven't you?"

"I did," I said. "She's really great, isn't she?"

Tatsuki-san nodded, then paused to wait for me to elaborate. When I didn't, she decided to do it for me.

"She is," Tatsuki-san said. "She's an accomplished singer-songwriter who works hard to crank out hits that aren't just formulaic drivel. She specializes in love songs, but has a good repertoire, from slower ballads to faster-paced J-rock songs that are easy to dance to. Her work is mature while still being wholesome. She's even remarkably nice in public, and has given to charity, albeit partly out of a desire for good PR."

"Ah, right," I said, "I think I heard people say things like that about her."

"Yes, that's true," Tatsuki-san said, "since while some people spread unpleasant rumors about Queen Venus, most music fans respected her. But nowadays, all people remember is that she slept with a married man, and use lyrics of her greatest hits to make fun of her."

Queen Venus' public persona sounded too good to be true, and it probably was. Her fans must have felt betrayed by hearing about her misconduct, which is why they turned on her as quickly and decisively as they had.

"I know what Queen Venus did was wrong," Tatsuki-san said. "Some people say that she seduced her manager, others say he led her on, and still others say it was a mutual thing, but regardless of the reasons, she still helped break up a marriage. But while some people dismissed her public apology as only motivated by getting her career back, I think she was really sorry. In the end, though, it wasn't enough for the public."

"What _would_ be enough?" I said. "Putting her in the stocks and making her wear the Kanji for 'adulterer' on her clothes? Sending her to prison? Hanging her from a gallows in Shibuya's scramble crossing?"

"I doubt anyone would go _that_ far," Tatsuki-san said, "even if the public is rather vindictive. Of course, the point is that people can't forgive her for what she's done. Perhaps being punished and officially accepting that punishment might help convince some people that she's atoning for her misdeeds, but others would believe that she only cares about what she lost."

I recalled what had happened to me after I had my fight in elementary school. I'd accepted the punishments handed down by the principal and my mom, but found that my none of my classmates were willing to forgive me, not just the girl I'd fought with.

"In any case, I'm no different," Tatsuki-san said. "Any apology I make for killing Kojima-kun will likely be dismissed, since people will conclude I'm more sad about losing my sister than I am guilty about what I've done, and some will conclude that I don't are about Kojima-kun."

"Maybe they will," I said, "but even if that happens, that's no reason for you to give up. You try to make up for your crimes because it's the right thing to do, not to earn people's forgiveness."

"Fair enough," Tatsuki-san said. "There's no point wanting what you can't have."

Realizing that I'd come off a bit harsh, I smiled reassuringly and tried to make my message more encouraging.

"That said," I said, "even if others will judge you unfavorably, I'll keep an open mind, and believe that you deserve a second chance."

'Thank you, Nagato-san," Tatsuki-san said. "I won't let you down."

I'd often heard that "a promise made is a debt unpaid," and realized that taking anyone at their word was a risky proposition in the killing game. Nevertheless, Tatsuki-san was earnest about her desire to change for the better, so it was perhaps worth the risk to believe her until she gave me reason to do otherwise.

* * *

**EVENT 4: Tatsuki-san has just remembered how important it is to try to make up for your mistakes, even if it isn't easy and you might not be fully forgiven. (Locked until Chapter V)**

Tatsuki-san asked me a few questions about Christianity, and was especially interested in how one of the criminals who was crucified alongside Jesus accepted Christ.

"So, Tatsuki-san," I said, "are you at all interested in converting to Christianity?"

"Unfortunately, no, Chiyuri-san," Tatsuki-san said. "I doubt I can believe in any god after what I witnessed here."

"I don't blame you," I said, "since I've also started questioning my faith. That being said, I have no desire to give up on the values I was raised with. Even if God does not exist, I still believe that following His teachings is the best way to live a good life."

Tatsuki-san nodded in agreement. After a moment, a thought came to her.

"You know, I just remembered something else my mom said," Tatsuki-san said. "A few years after the incident, just after I got started as Dragon Girl, my sister and I flunked a test, since I was busy practicing and Taiga was busy with what would be the first song she'd be credited as writing for Dragon Girl. We were resigned to the test ruining our not particularly great grade point average, and when Mom spoke with us about it, we reminded her of what she'd said about not all mistakes being fixable. Mom then clarified that while it wasn't always possible, it behooved us to do something about them."

"That's an important lesson," I said. "So, what'd you do?"

"What else?" Tatsuki-san said. "Taiga and I studied for the make-up test as much as we could, and eventually got our grades back up to halfway decent levels. It was hard work, but it did make a difference."

I smiled. The Tachibana sisters weren't the only ones with poor grades on this ship, since I knew the same went for me. I didn't have much hope of getting very good grades, but I was determined to try my hardest.

"I know what you said about Christianity's teachings concerning sin," Tatsuki-san said, "but I sometimes wonder if each of us has a sort of karmic balance, a bit like a credit card, with the amount you owe determining whether you're a good or bad person. Bad deeds increase your debt, while good deeds pay it off. Do you understand me so far?"

I nodded, vaguely reminded of when I went to confession and did penance for my sins.

"Good," Tatsuki-san said. "After what I did, I doubt it's even possible for me to get back in the black, so to speak. Maybe if I saved someone's life, but I don't know if I can do something like that."

"I don't know how to answer that question," I said, "but I, too, am also responsible for sacrificing others so the majority, including both of us, could live. After all, I voted for you in the second trial, believing that you were guilty and would be executed. The only thing that didn't go as I expected was that your sister was the one who died."

"Well, I don't hold that against you," Tatsuki-san said, "or against the ten others who voted for me so that they might live. In the first trial, I voted for Yamazaki-kun to protect myself and Taiga."

I thought back to Akira-san's remarks at the end of the second trial. There were many times when I wished I could do things the way she did, but I was past the point at which I could solely think in terms of emulating her. Nevertheless, this seemed like a time when Akira-san's words of wisdom were the right thing to say.

"In the end, it's just as Akira-san said," I said. "None of us have the right to judge you for putting your or your sister's lives above those of everyone else."

"In other words, 'Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,' right?" Tatsuki-san said.

"Precisely," I said. "If we survive the killing game, I'm sure all of us will have regrets of varying sorts... but we'll also have our lives, and the responsibility to live as well as we can.

Tatsuki-san seemed to accept this point, although it would be difficult for her to live by it. Nevertheless, I had faith that she'd do what was best, and hoped that she shared my belief.

* * *

**EVENT 5: It won't be an easy process, but I hope that Tatsuki-san will turn her life around and forgive herself.**

Tatsuki-san invited me over to her cabin, saying I was the first person besides her to set foot inside since the second trial.

"I've been thinking about what you said earlier, Chiyuri-san," Tatsuki said. "I'm not sure I'll ever fully make up for what I've done."

"You might be right," I said, "but even if you are, that's no reason to give up."

"No," Tatsuki-san said. "The only idea I have at this point is going to the Kojima family to apologize, and offer to atone for their son's death. Of course, depending on how things go, they might be more interested in seeing me go to prison for what I've done."

Something about that didn't sit right with me. Maybe it was the just thing to do in a situation like this, but how would people judge what the rest of the survivors did? Would we be culpable for the deaths we allowed to happen? If nothing else, I believed that the judge deserved to hear the extenuating circumstances behind Tatsuki-san's actions, and she deserved some leniency.

"That's possible," I said. "Are you scared of that happening?"

"A little," Tatsuki-san said. "The truth is that I've always been a coward who takes the easy way out, but that doesn't mean I have to stay that way forever. If I keep trying to become a better person and make up for what I've done, then maybe I can redeem myself in the end."

"I think so, too," I said. "For what it's worth, Tatsuki-san, I'm glad that you lived this long."

"So am I, Chiyuri-san," Tatsuki-san said with a bittersweet smile.

We shook hands. Perhaps Tatsuki-san would end up dead before this was all over, but I hoped to avoid that outcome. Living well for the sake of those who'd died because of her was both her responsibility and her right, so I wished that she and I could escape together.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

This is one of the first Free Time Events for Chiyuri that I had envisioned, although it took me a while to nail down what it would discuss. While Azuki's Free Time events with Tatsuki deal with her backstory, this one deals with her reaction to what happened, a bit like Fuyuhiko's Free Time Events from the second game.

I tried to avoid having too much overlap with her development in the main story, but decided to feature her backstory with the themes of making up for mistakes and changing your ways. It's one of the more depressing Free Time Event chains, but has an uplifting ending.

If this were a Danganronpa game, Tatsuki would be unavailable for Free Time Events in Chapter III, while she's at her lowest point following her sister's death. She would only become available again in Chapter IV, after Chiyuri becomes the protagonist.


	32. Free Time Events: Hikaru Kurogane (Side C)

**Free Time Events: Hikaru Kurogane (Side C)**

**EVENT 1: Kurogane-san's family competes in shogi, causing Kurogane-san to realize that he didn't enjoy or have much talent for the game.**

Kurogane-san and I played a game of go. He severely handicapped himself, but I didn't even come close to winning.

"Thank you for the game," I said, "and I'm sorry I didn't put up a better effort."

"That's fine, Nagato-san," Kurogane-san said. "I guess now you know how I felt about shogi. There's a reason why I'm not the Ultimate Shogi Player, and it's time I told you."

"I'm listening," I said.

"The members of my family compete against each other in shogi," Kurogane-san said, "and some of us are a lot better than others. As you can imagine, I lost most of the time against most of my opponents, including against my cousin Shiro, who's a year younger than me. With my cousins quickly surpassing me and my parents, aunts and uncles in a different league, I gave it my best effort for years, but eventually got discouraged and stopped trying."

While I knew that the Ultimates weren't good at everything, I hadn't expected Kurogane-san to talk so frankly about his troubles. I'd heard stories about talented people who succeeded despite their difficulties, but few people were willing to tell stories about how they'd repeatedly failed at something they tried until they gave up.

"That doesn't sound fun," I said, "but there are always those who are better than you, aren't there?"

"There are," Kurogane-san said, "but it was hard to find anything enjoyable or fulfilling about being defeated so soundly and so often. Your defeats, failures and mistakes can be educational experiences as long as you have the right mindset and understand where you went wrong. I, however, felt as though I was getting crushed so decisively that I wasn't learning anything...well, except for the fact that shogi wasn't my game."

"That's actually an important lesson," I said. "If you know that something isn't worth the effort, then you won't waste time pursuing it."

Kurogane-san smiled and nodded.

"Indeed," Kurogane-san said. "'Not worth the effort' is an apt description for things that are impossible, as well as those that are unfulfilling. Life's too short to waste on something you can't do or don't enjoy doing."

Even before the killing game forced us to realize how suddenly and violently our young lives could end, we'd always known that we only had a limited amount of time, and we'd do well to make the most of it. The only question was how much our "most" would be.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Kurogane-san found that go was his talent, even if it doesn't fit with his family.**

We played another game, and I lost once again. Kurogane-san reassured me that I wasn't doing too badly; I was on par with the average beginner, and he'd seen some spectacularly incompetent people, from one person who kept on making illegal moves by accident, to another whose blunders enabled Kurogane-san to capture most of the board in one fell swoop.

"I'd like to know something," I said. "How did you get your start in go?"

"I meant to tell you that last time," Kurogane-san said. "When I was in third grade or so, I went to a classmate's house and played go against his older brother. Everyone involved was surprised at how quickly I took to it, myself most of all."

While I'd always assumed that the Ultimates were naturals, I hadn't seen many people who'd tried and failed at something apart from their Ultimate talent before I'd met Kurogane-san. With that in mind, his decision to give up on shogi seemed like the right move.

"I played it more and more over time," Kurogane-san said, "and while I did eventually start playing seriously, I never stopped enjoying it. Go was fun because I was good at it, but mainly because I'd chosen to do it."

"That's good to hear," I said. "It can be difficult to enjoy something if you're forced to do it."

"Yes, that's certainly true," Kurogane-san said. "While I do have to keep on playing go to keep my career alive, I remind myself that this is a career I chose for myself. I may not be able to do it forever, but I'll keep on going as long as I can, so I won't have any regrets."

I noticed that Kurogane-sound didn't seem entirely sure of that statement. While he didn't regret the path he took, it seemed as though not everything had gone the way he'd hoped for, but what did he wish had turned out differently?

* * *

**EVENT 3: Kurogane-san's family didn't take kindly to his specializing in go. That said, it's impressive that he continued down his path.**

Kurogane-san, noticing I'd grasped the basics of go, decided to share some advanced tips he'd gotten, the kind that he said weren't ones that you could find in a standard book about go. I listened attentively and thanked him for his guidance. He said he was happy to help, just as others had helped him, then proceeded to tell about some of the mentors and books who had taught him much of what he knew. Unfortunately, his parents were noticeably absent from that list.

"As I said earlier, I started playing go seriously a few years before I got invited to come to Talent High School," Kurogane-san said, "and, of course, my parents noticed. They weren't exactly happy."

"Why?" I said. "You excelled at go, didn't you?"

"I did," Kurogane-san said, "but it was a while before I became a professional player. To my parents, go was just another waste of time, and they believed that if I practiced harder at shogi, I could compete with Shiro and the others."

I suppose the same went for most other talents and marketable skills. Until you had what it took to do them for a living, they were simply hobbies that were good way to kill time but otherwise were of no use to you or anyone else. I couldn't completely fault Kurogane-san's parents for wanting him to find a productive use for his skills (even if I wasn't sure whether that was the actual reason behind their opposition), but I wished they'd be a little more supportive of their son.

"I did have an ally of sorts in my father," Kurogane-san said. "He said to my mother, 'Hikaru's chosen his path, so we should let him walk it to wherever it may lead him.' Mother didn't argue with him, so I guess she could at least be persuaded."

I had mixed feelings about Kurogane-san's parents. On the one hand, they had allowed their son to pursue his dream, and not everyone would be that understanding. On the other hand, it sounded as though they expected he might fail, and were willing to let that happen to teach him a lesson. Mom saw the latter as a valid tactic for cases in which failing wasn't dangerous for the child, which was a fair assertion, but I was sure most children would want their parents' full support for their endeavors.

"Wherever it may lead you?" I said. "That's not exactly optimistic."

"Maybe it isn't," Kurogane-san said, "but the same goes for all who seek to be the best. Even Shiro's success was not guaranteed, but due to hard work and luck. Because of that, he's a bit... obsessed with proving that he's better than others, and can't stand losing to anyone he sees as beneath him. He's not a bad guy, really, but has trouble getting along with others who are his rivals; my relationship with him improved after I stopped doing shogi."

I nodded to acknowledge Kurogane-san's points about his cousin, but inwardly, I knew I'd gotten the right Kurogane as my classmate.

"I know," I said. "Still, it's impressive that you got this far without your parents supporting you. I don't think I could have done the same."

Kurogane-san merely shrugged, since seemed a bit uncomfortable to hear that.

"In the end, I think success comes down to one's efforts," Kurogane-san said. "Your parents can give you a good upbringing, as well as an environment that helps nurture your talent, but you're ultimately responsible for your own success or failure."

Kurogane-san changed the subject, but I could tell that his parents were a difficult subject for him. He wasn't willing to let them hold him back, but that didn't mean he didn't care about them at all, so even as he proceeded down a path that was separate from his family, he still glanced backwards at those he'd left behind. I hoped that one day, he'd come to terms with those feelings and continue onwards without regrets.

* * *

**EVENT 4: Kurogane-san still wants his parents' approval, while I want his confidence. It seems we each have something that the other lacks.**

I played another game with Kurogane-san. I still didn't stand much of a chance against him, but I felt as though I was actually learning how to play the game, so I was making progress. Maybe if I challenged Higurashi-san or one of the girls to a game, I'd be able to win.

"This may sound like a personal question, Nagato-san," Kurogane-san said, "but does your mother approve of you?"

"She does," I said. "She doesn't go soft on me, and does encourage me to try to get better grades, but I'm her daughter and she loves me unconditionally."

"Good for you," Kurogane-san said.

As grateful as I was for that, the fact that it was unconditional made me question whether I'd earned that love, a belief that was only reinforced as many strangers refused to give me a second thought. However, after meeting Akira-san and my other friends, I realized that while I would need to have people acknowledge my talents and skills, I didn't need to think of people's love and respect as something that was earned- rather, it was given.

"I've been thinking about last time," Kurogane-san said. "While my parents' opposition never deterred me from playing go competitively, I did actually want their approval- and still do."

"That's understandable," I said, "since it's only natural for you to crave approval from those close to you. This also goes for strangers, since it's hard to get through life if no one acknowledges you."

"I guess," Kurogane-san said. "After all, my popularity is not an inconsequential factor in my go career. I guess tech support professionals have to not only impress hiring managers to get a job, but also make a good enough impression on callers to avoid racking up complaints."

"Fair enough," I said. "Of course, I don't know if it's possible to excel at the job, as much as do it well enough that hardly anyone complains."

A part of me envied those who had jobs in which it was possible to achieve great things and stand out from the pack, rather than do your job while trying to avoid making mistakes. My grandfather came to mind as an example of the latter group, since while the factory considered him a reliable worker, he couldn't proudly reminisce about any specific feats. He'd been a good worker, but there was nothing he could do that the younger worker who replaced him after he retired couldn't.

"In any case," I said, "I said what I did because I admire your confidence and determination. Ever since Akira-san died, it's been hard for me to believe in myself. Akira-san was the one who most saw value from me, but now, she's gone."

While my mom believed in me, a part of her always believed that I'd never be able to escape the stigma of being an illegitimate child, which was why she'd agreed to have me admitted to Talent High School with a title that I hadn't actually earned. That said, I couldn't exactly judge her too harshly, since I'd felt the same way myself.

"I know what you mean," Kurogane-san said. "Of course, even if you wish you believed in yourself as I do, I wish my parents were as supportive of me as your mother is of you. Then again, it's possible for my parents to change, and it's possible for you to change, too."

I shared that hope, too, so that we could have both confidence in ourselves and loving and supportive parents. Kurogane-san's parents were out of his hands, but I could change myself, so I owed it to myself to do so.

* * *

**EVENT 5: Kurogane-san hopes that I can believe in myself, and so offered me his support.**

Kurogane-san invited me over to his cabin. We played go again, and while I lost, I enjoyed myself so much that I didn't mind.

"I've been thinking, Nagato-san," Kurogane-san said. "As much as I'd like to say 'believe in yourself,' I know that's kind of trite advice. After all, it's not very useful to tell someone to do what they're having trouble doing, even if it _is_ what they need to do."

"Well, Akira-san told me to do just that," I said. "Of course, she was a person who didn't hesitate to say what was on her mind, so maybe that was why it worked."

"I know," Kurogane-san said. "What I do know, though, is that success isn't always guaranteed. A lot of famous people's achievements seem almost inevitable in hindsight, but at the time, no one would have thought they'd be possible... and yet, they didn't let that stop them. You don't just need talent and hard work to succeed, but also courage and self-confidence."

I had to agree. While there were many times when I'd been deterred from trying something because I didn't think I could succeed, it was possible that I might have prevailed in some of those cases if I'd stuck with it and refused to let the odds scare me off.

"True," I said. "Of course, such achievements often aren't necessarily possible, are they?"

"Not always," Kurogane-san said. "But if you're feeling doubtful, ask yourself why, and what you can do about it. If there is a problem, then perhaps you can think of a solution. If you're afraid of something, confront your fears to overcome them. If you find that it's all just in your head, just press on."

"Thank you, Kurogane-san," I said. "I appreciate hearing that from you."

"Not a problem, Nagato-san," Kurogane-san said. "That's what friends are for."

As we shook hands, I thought about what the future would hold, both in the killing game and beyond. Many difficult challenges would await us, and solving them might not be a simple matter of determination. Fortunately, I wouldn't face them alone, not with a loyal friend like Kurogane-san at my side.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Kurogane's Free Time Events are another that vary based on the personality of the protagonist interacting with him. They also serve to develop his cousin Shiro a little, since Hikaru probably has the best relationship with Shiro.

The omake is a parody of The Lady or the Tiger.

* * *

**Omake**

_Kurogane's POV_

I'd like to share a dream I had the night before the costume party.

I sat in the box seats of the royal stadium, in what was apparently known as the Kurogane Kingdom.

From a door beneath my seat, Shigeru, the man I loved, walked into the arena. The stadium announcer revealed his crime- attempting to seduce the crown prince of the nation. Apparently, he was guilty of two offenses- loving a man and loving someone above his station. I almost laughed at the irony, since I was the only one guilty of those "crimes." My feelings for him weren't reciprocated; Shigeru saw me as a friend, but often talked with me about getting a girlfriend. Despite that, Father chose to blame Shigeru, rather than me, possibly because he wanted me to marry the daughter of Duke Himemiya, the wealthiest noble in the land.

As punishment, Shigeru was given the sentence given to all major criminals, and was forced to choose one of two doors. Behind one lay a starving and vicious bear, half black and half white, that would brutally kill and eat him, and behind the other, there was a maiden whom he would have to marry.

I could imagine what the talented young law scholar I knew would think of this. To her, this would be a contest of chance, in which it was as likely for an innocent person to be devoured as a guilty one to end up with the woman of his dreams. The outcome was purely up to blind luck.

Of course, the story wasn't about the criminal's choice. Rather, it was about the princess, the woman who loved him. She'd paid a bribe and discovered what lay behind each door, and with a single gesture, could guide the man to his fate. It was a bitter choice for her- see the man suffer a grisly death, or see him be married to her hated romantic rival.

This time, I had the choice for myself, having paid a bribe to discover that the tiger was on the left and the lady was on the right. Obviously, I didn't want Shigeru to die such a horrible death at the teeth and claws of the bear, but what about the alternative? Behind the other door lay Lady oAkira Azuki, who, in this world, was a noblewoman, the only daughter of Countess Azuki. She was highly sought-after, especially by Shigeru, who seemed almost obsessed with her. Father had chosen her to be Shigeru's prize, possibly knowing that she was the one he wanted, and having even a 50-50 chance at Lady Akira's hand in marriage(albeit with the alternative being death) was an attractive proposition to him.

I pointed at the right door, a gesture that went unnoticed by the audience, who were focused on Shigeru himself. Shigeru walked to the right door, and with a trembling hand, he pushed it open, not knowing if death or marriage awaited him. He trusted me enough to take my advice, but did he know what I intended for him? The man in the story didn't know, which was probably why the story never told us whether he took the princess's advice.

The story that inspired this dream ended right there, with a question- would the woman rather let her lover die or choose someone else? But my story had an answer- Lady Akira was behind the door I'd chosen. Shigeru had not only been lost to me either way, but his heart had belonged to someone else before he even stepped into the arena, so it wasn't worth letting him die out of spite. The only regret I had about this outcome was what I would be subjecting the bride to, assuming she felt the same way about Shigeru that her counterpart in my world did.

"Forgive me, Lady Akira..." I thought as I woke up.

* * *

I woke up that morning to see that Kojima-kun was already up.

"Good morning, Kojima-kun," I said.

"Morning, Kurogane," Kojima-kun said. "You seem like you had a weird dream last night.

"Yes, I did," I said. "Have you ever heard about 'The Lady or the Tiger?'"

"Sure have," Kojima-kun said. "Between the princess, her lover, the lady or the tiger, I'm gonna guess that you were the princess, right?"

I nodded, glad he was already up to speed.

"I was," I said, "and I let yo- er, the man I love live and marry the woman he loves."

"Good for you," Kojima-kun said. "If you just let the guy die, nobody would've won... except maybe the tiger that got to eat him. This way, the guy gets to live, even if he doesn't end up with you... at least not right now."

"You think he will eventually?" I said. "He doesn't have any choice but to marry the lady... not that he would've said no even if he could."

"Hey, anything can happen," Kojima-kun said, "but I'm happy as long as the girl I love gets to live. She might end up hating me, but as long as she's alive and happy, I can live with that."

I was tempted to ask if he thought Azuki-san didn't already hate him, but dropped the subject and headed to breakfast. We had a long day ahead of us, one that got much longer once a murder occurred at the house. But that's a story for another time...


	33. Free Time Events: Yuichi Asakura (Side C)

**Free Time Events: Yuichi Asakura (Side C)**

**EVENT 1: Asakura-san is _not_ happy about the idea of spending time with me. Neither am I, so I guess we have more in common than I thought.**

_Note: Free time events are only available in Cruise Mode_

I met up with Asakura-san, who greeted me with a curt nod. After a few moments of awkward silence, I finally spoke.

"I'm surprised, Asakura-san," I said. "I didn't think you'd be willing to spend time with me."

"I'm gonna be honest," Asakura-san said. "Nagato-sensei pretty much ordered me to at least be polite to you. Being the teacher's daughter in addition to being the teacher's pet has its perks, doesn't it?"

So Asakura-san didn't know about my father, and instead continued to believe the more obvious narrative that Mom was the reason I got into Talent High School. I had no intention of telling him the truth, lest I vindicate his suspicions that I hadn't earned my title, and instead decided to focus on educating him on a more useful topic.

"My mother believes that everyone should try to get along in spite of their differences," I said, deciding that treating Mom as my teacher wouldn't do any good as far as he was concerned. "When I got in a fight with a girl who'd been bullying me in third grade, Mom punished me, even though she knew the bully had wronged me. According to Mom, too many people justify doing bad things by saying that the victim provoked them, or otherwise 'deserved' it, so she always seeks to be the better person, and hopes that her daughter will do the same."

"How noble," Asakura-san said sardonically. "So is that principle the reason why you deign to speak to me?"

"That's one reason," I said. "Another is because I can't understand why you're so hung up on our having the same title."

"Well it's only the thing I'm best at, my claim to fame and how I will be remembered," Asakura-san said. "Did you think I'd be OK with sharing that with you?"

"I suppose not," I said, "but do _you_ think I'd give it up just because you asked me to?"

Asakura-san chuckled and shook his head.

"Not at all," Asakura-san said. "I certainly wouldn't."

"I'm glad you understand," I said, "since I certainly wouldn't expect you to surrender the title willingly. I don't get why you're so determined to have the title to yourself, but at least you understand that we have that in common."

Now that I thought about it, people fought because of their similarities as because of their differences. Two nations might go to war over their opposing religious beliefs, but both would have the same zealous devotion to their religion and willingness to kill anyone who stood in their way. Perhaps there was practically no hope of Asakura-san and I getting along, but at least I understood him a bit better.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Asakura-san has disdain for the idea of lying, or befriending anyone he considers to not be worth the effort.**

I met up with Asakura-san again, greeting him formally, to which he gave a curt response. At that point, I realized that if he got a job as a tech support professional, he'd only last until someone complained about him.

"I'm curious, Asakura-san," I said. "Don't you know how to at least be tactful and polite, even to those you don't like?"

"You mean lie," Asakura-san said. "Yes, I can do that... but I don't see the point here."

I sighed and shook my head.

"I don't think of it as lying," I said. "It's simply treating others as you'd like to be treated."

"So what _do_ you want?" Asakura-san said. "Everyone to suck up to you and kiss your ass?"

I paused to think for a moment, then shook my head. Akira-san wasn't exactly polite by most people's standards, but she was a good person and a true friend, so I didn't mind that she was much more casual with me than I was with her. In fact, I was considering dropping the "-san" and just calling her "Akira."

"No," I said. "I'd like to be friends with most people, or at least get along with them. The operative word is _most_ , of course."

"Got it," Asakura-san said. "There's no point in wishing for the impossible, after all. In my case, most people can't stand me, and the feeling's mutual."

"And you're fine with that?" I said.

"Basically, yeah," Asakura-san said. "Most people out there aren't worth your time, so if they decide you aren't worth theirs, you shouldn't take it personally."

I was left at a loss for words. Many of my classmates and other peers had been rather cold to me, so I had to agree with Asakura, albeit for a different reason. The girl I'd gotten into a fight with in elementary school also happened to be one of the most popular girls in the class, which was a large part of the reason why I was so despised for raising a hand against her. That being said, I also knew how cruel she could be, and wondered if she secretly held her admirers in disdain.

"I can't deny that some people will never be your friends, and others aren't worth the effort," I said, "but you should at least give people a chance. Some people might decide that if you judge people to be unworthy until they prove otherwise, you may not be worth their time, either. Conversely, if you're nice to people and make a good first impression, they might decide they like you."

"I thought you'd say that," Asakura-san said. "After all, I've already gotten my first impression of you... hell, maybe even a second impression."

I could sense a certain subtext in Asakura-san's remarks. He was implying that I'd already put my best foot forward, and it had done no good, so I should probably give up on him. That conclusion was obvious enough, but what was he saying? Was he trying to get me to give up on him, or come over to his way of thinking? Or perhaps both?

* * *

**EVENT 3: Asakura-san is only good at tech support, and only thinks it's worthwhile to do what you're best at.**

I told Asakura-san about how I'd helped my mother and schoolmates with their tech-related problems. Unsurprisingly, he wasn't impressed; it was a bit like if I'd asked Sayuri-san to take a look at a comic strip I scribbled in class, or lifted the lightest set of dumbbells available in front of Kumakura-san.

"I would like to know something, Asakura-san," I said. "How did you get involved in tech support in the first place?"

"I've always been told I have a way with technology," Asakura-san said. "I decided I might as well go with it."

So in other words, he relied on other's opinions of him to form his own vision for what he wanted to do with his life. Then again, considering how important grades, performance evaluations and recommendations could be, maybe he wasn't completely wrong about how necessary people's approval was.

"I see," I said. "And why not become a programmer or something else of the sort?"

"I'm good, but not _that_ good," Asakura-san said. "There's a girl a year younger than us who's already working for big corporations, and there's a rumor that she's working on a true artificial intelligence. She's the person you need to beat when it comes to programming, and I've got to admit that when it comes to her, I don't stand a chance."

So even someone as arrogant as Asakura-san acknowledged there were people out there who were more talented than him. Perhaps he did have some humility... as well as a way to acknowledge the blatantly obvious.

"Yes, it's true that there are many people who are better than you at whatever you choose to do for a living," I said, "but does that mean that if you aren't the best, your contributions are worthless?"

"Don't put words in my mouth," Asakura-san said. "That wasn't at all what I was trying to say."

I sighed. While Asakura-san could choose to rudely deflect my questions, I could ask them in a way that would be more likely to get a response from him. I could think of many ways to phrase the question that were a lot better than "Then what _were_ you trying to say?" but I could only pick one, so I gave this some careful thought.

"Let me put this another way," I said. "When Akira-san auditioned for Magical Girl Sakura, there were at least a hundred other people who tried out for the part. Obviously, everyone besides her got rejected, but a couple of Akira-san's rivals tried out for and got supporting roles. Isn't it possible that those people, as well as some who didn't get any parts, are good actresses in their own right?"

"Maybe they are," Asakura-san said, "but if they got those secondary roles, they did so by being the best among those who auditioned for them. Most of the time, there's no prize for second place- either you're the best, or you're a loser."

I let out a long sigh, realizing there was no point in arguing about this with Asakura-san. That being said, I was a bit surprised at how strongly my mind chose to reject Asakura's vision of a winner-take-all society that only judged people by what they could offer in comparison to others. I couldn't be proud of myself as the best at tech support or anything else, but I saw a certain value in all people- even Asakura, of course- and nothing would change that.

* * *

**EVENT 4: Asakura-san doesn't care for people's pity or for meaningless victories. He simply wants to be the best.**

I met up with Asakura-san again. He wasn't any more pleased to see me than the previous few times, but luckily for us, we seemed to be close to running out of things to talk about. After one or two more conversations, we'd be through with each other.

"Be honest with me, Nagato," Asakura-san said. "Are you really fine with sharing my title with me?"

"Yes," I said. "Even if everyone in the class had the same title."

Asakura-san chuckled.

"Good for you," Asakura-san said. "Some of us are content with everyone being a winner, after all. A gold star means jack shit if everyone in your kindergarten class gets it."

"Maybe it doesn't serve any purpose in determining a winner," I said, "but kids that young don't need to think in terms of winners and losers. At that age, it's simply enough for them to focus on doing their best, and worry about whether they're better than the others later."

I remembered Araya-sensei, an old schoolmate of Mom's who was my kindergarten teacher, and the two were practically like night and day. Mom called me "Nagato-san," while Araya-sensei called me "Chiyuri-chan," and both gave similar treatment to my classmates. Mom wore suits while Araya-sensei wore business casual. Mom, a Literature teacher, had her students read famous Japanese books, while Araya-sensei read storybooks to us. Despite her differences with Araya-sensei, Mom thought of Araya-sensei as a friend, and the feeling was mutual (which was good, since not many of Mom's old friends had kept in touch with her).

"Well, I don't remember being coddled like that," Asakura-san said. "If I sucked, the adults in my life- mainly my dad- told me I sucked, and didn't lie to me to spare my feelings."

"I... I see," I said. "I don't know how to put this, but feelings aren't just trivial things. If you deliver criticism, you have to phrase it constructively, since if you end up insulting the person receiving it, they'll never listen to you."

"Then that's their problem," Asakura-san said.

After I finished wondering how Asakura-san could possibly be a tech support person if he didn't care whether his callers listened to his advice, my mind turned to a more relevant question. Was it possible that his harsh upbringing had worsened his self-esteem, hardened his heart and turned him to the insensitive egotist he'd become today? It wasn't entirely unreasonable to connect the dots between the two, but maybe it was oversimplifying things. Only Asakura-san knew the truth, and while he'd shown me some evidence, he'd never tell me the answer.

* * *

**EVENT 5: Asakura and I will never be friends, but at least we understand each other better.**

I met up with Asakura one last time, hoping to end things on a semi-decent note.

"Hello, again, Nagato," Asakura-san said. "Are you going to treat me to more platitudes about being nice to others?"

"Not this time, Asakura," I said. "You've made it abundantly clear that they won't have any effect on you."

"Just Asakura?" Asakura said.

"Yes," I said. "All this time, you've called me 'Nagato,' without honorifics when you've bothered to address me by name- the least significant but most frequent way you've disrespected me- and I thought I should respond in kind. You don't have any right to complain, after all."

Asakura laughed out loud.

"Touche, Nagato," Asakura said. "So, you gave up on the whole touchy feely bullshit, right?"

"It's more like I'm being honest with myself, and with you," I said. "I realize that we'll never get along, so making an effort to win you over is a lost cause. Still, you have taught me a lot, so our time together wasn't wasted."

'If you say so," Asakura said. "Then again, I think I've spent enough time with you, so I'm looking forward to getting back, so we don't have to see each other again."

"That makes two of us," I said.

I turned around and left him behind, planning on never speaking with him again unless I had to, adding him to a long list of people that included several of my former bullies. It was as Asakura said- some people simply weren't worth my time, him least of all. Still, I felt I had some understanding of him, so maybe, if I had the chance, I could give my former tormentors a listen and find out what I could learn from them.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Asakura's Free Time Events are meant to be unavailable outside of Cruise Mode, since in the main story, he wants nothing to do with Chiyuri.

There's just two Free Time Events to go- Kumakura and Yamazaki, the Cabin M1 boys.


	34. Free Time Events: Kotaro Kumakura (Side C)

**Free Time Events: Kotaro Kumakura (Side C)**

**EVENT 1: Kumakura-san believes that living a healthy lifestyle is a matter of hard work and discipline.**

Kumakura-san and I took a walk together in order to get some exercise in. There was obviously a wide gap between our physical abilities, but since the walk was gentle and didn't involve physical strength, that gap wasn't evident here.

"I'd like to know something, Nagato-san," Kumakura-san said. "Have you been exercising since this cruise began?"

"Somewhat," I said. "I try to go out for walks like this when I can, but I don't really do any strength training outside of gym class. I've never been all that athletic, so I doubt I can ever change that."

Kumakura-san sighed disapprovingly. He clearly set high standards for himself, but did he also do the same with everyone else?

"That's not a good mindset to have," Kumakura said. "Even if you aren't an athlete, you should try to keep up a healthy lifestyle, something that involves discipline and hard work. Not many people can become competitive weightlifters, but  _anyone_ can strive to lead a healthier lifestyle."

"You're right about that," I said, "although there is a limit as to how far certain people can get."

"I suppose," Kumakura-san said, "but anyone can do better. Walking is by far the easiest form of exercise to start and stick with, especially since you can incorporate it into your daily routine."

I made a mental note of what Kumakura-san had said. The ship didn't have any exercise machines or weightlifting equipment, but I could go for a walk around the deck, or below decks if it was raining.

"That's true," I said, "but I suppose being healthy requires more than just walking, doesn't it?"

"It does," Kumakura-san said, "but it's best to begin with the small, easy things and build upward from there. Even if you don't do better than that, then at least you're doing better than someone who isn't trying at all. In the end, effort's what matters."

"I'm glad you think so," I said. "You seem more understanding than most of my teachers."

Mom believed grades were meant to evaluate one's performance, rather than serve as a be-all and end-all measurement of one's value as a person. She believed that parents who didn't try to convince their students to do better weren't doing their jobs, while those who were too fixated on students' scores risked unwittingly encouraging them to place grades ahead of actually learning, thereby potentially leading their children to cheat.

"So your grades... aren't necessarily the best, right?" Kumakura-san said. "I can't say I know your teachers, but at the very least, I'd like to think that it's just their way of saying that they think you can be doing better."

"I guess so," I said. "That's what Mom says, anyway."

While I was never a very good student, and had always found my lackluster grades more discouraging than anything, I wasn't sure whether the problem was more with my teachers or with me. Kumakura-san didn't know the answer, either, but he'd encourage me to keep on trying harder, which is what I sought to do.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Kumakura-san started out as relatively frail, and became strong through hard work. He believes it's important to have the determination to better yourself.**

Kumakura-san showed me how to safely lift weights, and spotted me as I did. I was worried about dropping them onto my feet, but he warned me that while that was a legitimate concern, it wasn't the only thing I had to worry about.

"Thank you for the guidance, Kumakura-san," I said. "I hope I'm not causing you too much trouble."

"Not at all, Nagato-san," Kumakura-san said. "So far, you're listening and following my instructions, so you're a good student. I can't necessarily give you top marks for your performance, but your attitude is commendable."

For me, that was rare praise. Some of my teachers commended my good attitude in class, but most of them judged me by my mediocre test scores.

"This might surprise you," Kumakura-san said, "but I wasn't always as strong as I am now. Back in elementary school, I was one of the worst in gym class. When we split into teams to compete against each other, no one wanted me on theirs."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said. "I've... been there myself."

"There was a time when I felt sorry for myself, and believed it was unfair that I was being left out," Kumakura-san said, "but eventually, I got over that. I then realized that the best way to be accepted was to become someone worth accepting."

"I guess that's true," I said, "at least in theory."

I personally felt that way, too. I believed that if people knew me as the Ultimate Tech Support, they would forget about my less desirable qualities- an ordinary, untalented student born to an unwed mother. That being said, I realized that Kumakura-san's solution was probably different from mine.

"I definitely believe that," Kumakura-san said. "There are certain people whose expectations cannot reasonably be met, whether because they're asking for too much or they want something that you can't give them. Of course, there are also other people who don't have any such standards."

"In other words, people who will accept you for who you are?" I said.

"Well, yes," Kumakura-san said, "or at least, those who don't hold you to unreasonable standards."

So in other words, most of the people who'd shunned me in the past. Of course, since I'd spent my childhood attending all-girls' schools, Kumakura-san had obviously never met any of the people in question, so he almost certainly didn't know them.

"While I set out to become stronger so that I could fit in more easily, I realized that wasn't the right reason to seek to bette rmyself," Kumakura-san said. "Rather than improve myself so others would accept me, I should improve myself to become someone I could be proud of. If you do that, everything else will take care of itself."

Kumakura-san was a strong person, and not just in terms of body. He had excellent discipline and the desire to improve himself, which must have been why he was able to get as far as he had.

* * *

**EVENT 3: Kumakura-san knows that improvement takes time, and not everyone can achieve greatness. Despite that, he still believes people should pursue their goals.**

I exercised with Kumakura-san until I started getting tired. Kumakura-san noticed first, and decided to call it a day when I thought I could still keep going.

"I think you're done for the day, Nagato-san," Kumakura-san said. "It's important that you know your limits, since overtaxing your body will hurt you more than it helps."

"I know," I said. "It's too bad that my limits aren't very high."

Kumakura-san shook his head.

"By now, you know that I wasn't always this strong," Kumakura-san said, "but what you may not realize is that I didn't change overnight. It took years of training, during which time there were many days when I didn't feel as though I was making any progress."

"But you were sure that you actually  _were_  making progress, weren't you?" I said.

"I was," Kumakura-san said, "and, unfortunately, that's more than I can say for some people. Obviously, you can't succeed if you don't try, but you might not succeed even if you do."

"Like who?" I said.

Kumakura-san paused to think about an answer to my question, and possibly as mull over whether he should give it to me. After a moment, he decided to answer.

"One of my friends had an older brother, who tried out for American football," Kumakura-san said. "He was a pretty strong guy and a fast runner, but he didn't quite get how to play the game, so he never became a regular. He trained harder than anyone I knew, but in the end, it wasn't enough."

"That must have been disappointing for him," I said, "but not just anyone can become a football player, can they?"

"No," Kumakura said. "Most people fail when they set their sights that high, but the reasons vary from person to person. Some don't have it in them to succeed, others don't try hard enough, and still others don't apply their effort correctly. I know not everyone can get what they want, but at the very least, I'd like to ensure that people who try for their goals are able to achieve something that's worth their time and effort."

I agreed with Kumakura-san, and thought my mother would feel the same way. Hard work didn't always get you what you wanted, but it did give you results, and I hoped that everyone would get what they deserved.

* * *

**EVENT 4: Kumakura-san doesn't believe in talent. He thinks that if he succeeded, it's because he worked hard and applied his effort correctly.**

Kumakura-san and I talked for a little bit about what Talent High School hoped to learn from studying talented individuals.

"I have a question for you, Nagato-san," Kumakura-san said. "What do you suppose 'talent' is?"

I paused to think for a moment, knowing that a basic definition wouldn't be enough to answer his question.

"I guess it's some unknown factor that helps determine how quickly you master something or how far you go," I said. "For example, two students are part of the same sports club and put the same amount of effort into practice, but one gets a spot on the team and the other doesn't. Hope's Peak Academy and Talent High School exist to study talent... or so they say."

While Mom was a teacher for Talent High School, and had dated the son of the school's chairman, she didn't know much more about the school's mission than most people. Neither did I, although I had to wonder whether the school's promising a spot to me flew in the face of its mission.

Kumakura-san paused to think for a moment. I wondered if he was about to ask whether one of the two student-athletes had somehow gotten the favor of the coach through connections (not unlike how I had), but he seemed to accept the assumption that both athletes were equally hard-working, and the decision was based purely on merit.

"So in other words, some people learn more quickly than others," Kumakura-san said, "and there's a limit to how much certain people can master a skill, no matter how hard they try?"

"It seems so," I said. "I mean, this is conventional wisdom, isn't it?"

"I suppose," Kumakura-san said, "but it's a rather depressing sort of conventional wisdom. I was happy to be called the Ultimate Weightlifter, but because I saw it as proof that anyone could become stronger with properly applied hard work. I don't want to believe that I only succeeded because I have some gift that ordinary people lack."

"Fair enough," I said, "but isn't the point of Talent High School and Hope's Peak to unlock the secret behind your success?"

Kumakura-san shrugged.

"Maybe it is," Kumakura-san said, "and I'm sorry if I end up disappointing those who are researching my talent. But if there's any secret waiting to be uncovered, a key to helping some other weightlifter reach or surpass my level, I hope that it's my methods, rather than any special gift."

"I'm sure it is," I said. "I may not know much about weightlifting or talent, but I believe your success is due to hard work and mastering lifting techniques."

"Thank you, Nagato-san," Kumakura-san said. "It means a lot to hear you say that."

I smiled and said, "You're welcome, Kumakura-san." I wasn't sure how convincing it was, but it was probably what he wanted to hear.

"In any case," Kumakura-san said, "I wonder what Talent High School intends to do with what it learns from researching talent. I hope that they use it to help other people master their talents."

"I hope so, too," I said. "I don't know what the school's ultimate goal is- only that they're still gathering information for it."

I'd always been curious about what schools like Talent High School and Hope's Peak did with their research on talent. Would they use it to help other young people master their crafts and realize their dreams, or would they keep it to themselves and use it for their own purposes? I'm sure Kumakura-san would hope it was the former, as did I.

* * *

**EVENT 5: Kumakura-san hopes to pass his wisdom on to others, just as he has to me.**

Kumakura-san invited me over to his cabin, mentioning that it was nice to have someone else in it for once.

"I have a question, Kumakura-san," I said. "What would you say if I told you that I wasn't really worthy of being the Ultimate Tech Support?"

"Why do you ask?" Kumakura-san said. "Is this about Asakura-kun claiming that he's the one who actually deserves the title?"

"Partially," I said, "since he also seems to believe that I wouldn't have earned the title unless I... well, even if he weren't around. What if my title is fake?"

Kumakura-san paused to think for a moment.

"You're more than your title, Nagato-san," Kumakura-san said. "If you managed to master tech support well enough to earn an invitation to Talent High School, I'm sure you'll do the same with anything else you put your mind to. With enough training and dedication, you may become an accomplished weightlifter."

I smiled. There were still many things that Kumakura-san didn't know about me, but his words were said with conviction, so I chose to believe him.

"I'm glad you think so," I said. "Thank you very much."

"The pleasure is mine," Kumakura-san said. "I look forward to seeing what you will accomplish in the future."

We shook hands, hoping we could escape from this place together. We had our lives ahead of us, and so much we had yet to accomplish, so I promised to devote myself fully to becoming a teacher, just like Kumakura-san gave his all to weightlifting.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

There's just one more Free Time Events chain- Yamazaki's.


	35. Free Time Events: Hide Yamazaki (Side C)

**Free Time Events: Hide Yamazaki (Side C)**

**EVENT 1: Both Yamazaki-san and I have rather unimpressive talents compared to our peers. I'm a bit surprised that he thinks of his that way, though.**

Yamazaki-san quizzed me on some of the trivia behind Magical Girl Sakura. I did fairly well when it came to things that were shown in the film, but struggled a little when asked about the actors' careers (except for Akira-san, of course).

"I've got a non-trivia question for you, Nagato," Yamzaki-san said, "but, uh, I'm not sure how to ask it."

"Please go ahead and ask, Yamazaki-san," I said. "I reserve the right to refuse to answer it, but there's no harm in telling me the question."

"All right," Yamazaki-san said. "You, uh, seem to have one of the lamer talents out of everyone in this class, don't you?"

I giggled.

"What's so funny?" Yamazaki said.

"Nothing, really," I said. "It's just that you made the right call asking me instead of Asakura-san."

"That's for sure," Yamazaki-san said. "I may not be all that bright, but I'm not  _that_ dumb."

I couldn't help but laugh. Of course, while I wasn't a genius or a fool, I'd gotten on Asakura-san's bad side just by getting into this class, and I couldn't think of anyone who'd managed to get on his  _good_  side (if only because no one seemed willing to put in the effort).

"But in all seriousness," Yamazaki-san said, "I know that it does sound like I'm making fun of you... or it would if it was anyone but me. I can't really look down upon you when my talent's a pretty useless one."

"Why do you say that?" I said. "Don't people like to watch you ace game shows on TV?"

"They do," Yamazaki-san said, "but it inevitably gets old after a while. That's why that Andy Warhol guy said that people will be famous for 15 minutes in the future. Obviously, '15 minutes' is an exaggeration, but you're only famous as long as people think you're worth talking about. Successful celebrities have to keep doing what they do best to stay in the spotlight."

Yamazaki-san was right; fame didn't last forever. As celebrated as Akira-san was, there would likely come a day when she'd end up being forgotten, quite possibly during her lifetime. Perhaps she would always have fans, but if she didn't continue to work hard, then she'd soon find herself out of a job.

"But I digress," Yamazaki-san said. "Do you think your talent's 'lame'?"

I paused to think for a moment. The answer I had in mind would likely make me come off as waffling on the question, since Yamazaki-san clearly wanted an unambiguous "yes" or "no" answer, but I decided to give it anyway.

"I'll admit that it's not exactly impressive," I said, "since not all Ultimate talents are created equal, after all. But it is useful in its own way, not to mention my ticket into this school, after all, so I wouldn't give it up."

"Hmmm..." Yamazaki-san said. "You say it like it's a 'yes,' but in reality, it's more of a 'no.' Interesting..."

Yamazaki-san quickly changed the subject, but I could tell that he wasn't entirely happy about my answer for some reason. I could only guess why, but since it wouldn't be a very reliable guess, it would be better to wait until he was ready to tell me.

* * *

**EVENT 2: Even more entertaining talents get old after a while. Whether you're good at something matters less than whether people have use of your skills.**

Yamazaki-san asked me some more trivia questions about various other shows. Even though it was obvious that I wasn't nearly ready to compete on Eureka, the show that had helped Yamazaki-san become famous, he said I was better than average in the topics I mentioned knowing about.

"I have a question about what we discussed last time," I said. "You don't see many tech support professionals on TV, do you?"

"Nope," Yamazaki-san said. "I know of one Indian drama called Delhi Nights in which Indira Dhobi, one of the supporting characters, works at a call center."

"I didn't think so," I said, "but people did like seeing you answering trivia questions, didn't they?"

Yamazaki-san shrugged.

"I guess they did," Yamazaki-san said, "but the main draw is that it's entertaining to watch. They're mainly curious about how long I can go on, and when I'll ultimately lose. Now that my run's finished, I'm sure they'll forget about me eventually."

I didn't have anything to say to that, since while I knew it was true, it probably wasn't good to bluntly tell Yamazaki-san that.

"You know," Yamazaki-san said, changing the subject, "some of my friends actually have part-time jobs at a fast food joint I frequent. They're generally decent at their job; they aren't anything special, but their performance is reliable, so their bosses gladly keep them around."

"Good for them," I said. "Do you think they're better off than you?"

"I dunno," Yamazaki-san said, "since they sure as hell aren't planning on doing that for a living. But in some ways, proving you can do something pretty well for the long term might just be better than doing amazing for the short term. Of course, the real challenge is finding something you're even pretty good at."

I had to agree. Choosing a career was a difficult decision, since while you weren't necessarily stuck at the same company or in the same line of work for your entire career, you'd have to think carefully about where your skills and passions lay, and choose something that suited you. For some, that choice was easier than others, and while my choice wasn't especially easy, Yamazaki-san had a more difficult time than I did.

* * *

**EVENT 3: Some of the talents that are most useful to society aren't necessarily the most fun to watch. Unfortunately, Yamazaki-san's talent is the opposite, being entertaining but not all that good for a career.**

I met up with Yamazaki-san again, and we discussed some of the more obscure TV shows he'd watched or read about to prepare for Eureka. They ranged in quality from "pretty good" to "garbage," and while many were soulless and cliched, others were surprisingly original. We were discussing one show about a high school girl who could transform into an adult police officer for an hour a day when Yamazaki-san changed the subject to ask me a question.

"You know, Nagato, I've been thinking about what you asked me before," Yamazaki said. "Have you ever seen any lawyers on TV?"

"I have," I said. "I remember seeing a few trial scenes in some movies."

"I thought you'd say that," Yamazaki-san said, "but have you ever seen real trials on TV?"

I shook my head.

"I guess not," I said. "The real thing's a lot more boring, isn't it?"

"You got that right," Yamazaki-san said. "Instead of a prosecutor and defense attorney screaming 'OBJECTION!' at each other as they bring up increasingly crazy arguments to find the true culprit, a lot of cases take hours or even days... when they aren't settled out of court or with a plea deal."

It was obvious that the producers of stories with trial scenes were taking artistic liberties with the legal system, but was it because they couldn't be bothered to do the research, or because they knew the truth wouldn't be as entertaining? The reason probably varied from person to person, and for most of them, putting them into one of the two categories would be oversimplifying things.

"Speaking of which," Yamazaki-san said, "surgeons' work is similar in some ways. Surgery is often a nerve-wracking process that takes hours, with one slip-up resulting in the patient's death, but if you can do the job, you'll save many lives."

"You're right about that," I said, "but what are you implying? Is your point that you... can't do anything like that?"

I wondered if it was too obvious, but Yamazaki-san nodded.

"Something like it," Yamazaki-san said. "My point is that all those people have ways to be useful to others, which is more than I can say for myself. Sure, I'm fun to watch, but in the end, did I really make anything or help anyone?"

I was about to ask, "Isn't that enough?", since there were many wealthy and successful entertainers, but I knew that Yamazaki-san would have quickly shot down that question with a "No" answer.

* * *

**EVENT 4: Yamazaki-san is actually jealous of me, and wishes he had a useful talent. Despite that, he's willing to consider what he can do for a living**

Once again, I met Yamazaki-san, who wasn't in the mood to talk about pop culture or trivia.

"You know, Nagato-san," Yamazaki-san said, "even though I suggested that we both had 'lame' talents, I was actually jealous of yours."

I chuckled nervously. I wasn't exactly the kind of person who had many enviable qualities, so I'd never heard that before, and didn't know how to respond.

"On second thought, maybe you should have gone to Asakura-san instead," I said. "I think he'd have enjoyed hearing you say something like that, which would've stroked his ego."

"Heh, true," Yamazaki-san said, "but you're the kind who can listen without judging me, so I thought you'd be a better pick."

"I'm glad you think so," I said, "so feel free to say what's on your mind."

Yamazaki-san nodded.

"Well, it goes back to what I've been saying," Yamazaki-san said. "People who call you up need your help, don't they? So I'm guessing after you answer their questions, they'll be grateful to you, right?"

"In theory," I said. "In many service jobs, your customers are rather entitled, showing little gratitude when you do your job right, and complaining bitterly when you don't do it."

"OK, so maybe it doesn't work out that smoothly in reality," Yamazaki-san said, "but I know your employers will pay you good money because they need someone to answer other people's questions and think your skills are worth the price. It'll take you less than a year to earn as much as I did in my run on Eureka, won't it?"

"Maybe it will," I said, "but you earned that much in a few nights."

Since we were arguing purely in terms of theoretical money, without mentioning any actual amounts, Yamazaki-san merely shrugged.

"I guess," Yamazaki-san said, "but I only made a couple million yen, and many workers make at least a billion over the course of their careers. It was fun being on television and winning all those competitions, but it isn't a living."

"Maybe not," I said, "but I'm sure there's something you can do with your skills."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, I guess," Yamazaki-san said. "It isn't too specific, though; I guess I'm supposed to find the answer on my own?"

"Yes, because you're the only one who can answer it," I said. "Perhaps we could put our heads together and help think of some ideas, but the choice is yours."

It sounded like a cop-out, but this was one decision I didn't feel comfortable making for Yamazaki-san.

"Then I'll start by doing some thinking by myself," Yamazaki-san said. "I'll talk with you when I have some ideas to discuss."

"Until then, Yamazaki-san," I said. "In the meantime, I'll think of a few myself."

I said goodbye to Yamazaki-san for now.

* * *

**EVENT 5: Yamazaki-san is starting to find his own path for the future.**

Yamazaki-san invited me to his cabin and we brainstormed what he could do for a living. We came up with a surprising number of possibilities, even if most of them were relatively menial jobs.

"Wow, thanks, Nagato," Yamazaki-san said. "I'm amazed we came up with this many ideas."

"That's the natural result when two people put their heads together and make an honest effort," I said. "I'm sure Nagato-sensei would be an even better source of guidance for you. She's a professional, after all."

"You're probably right," Yamazaki-san said, "but as far as amateurs go, you're still my first choice."

I was taken aback for a moment.

"Really?" I said. "I'm not sure what sort of qualifications I have to help you with that."

"Well, you're a good listener and a trustworthy friend," Yamazaki-san said, "which is what counts more than anything."

"I'm glad you think so," I said. "I've been doing some thinking myself, and I found a career I want to pursue- to be a teacher like Mom."

"Great plan," Yamazaki-san said, "and while you're at it, you should double as the school's guidance counselor. I'm sure that will be a good career for you, probably better than any I could aspire to."

"I wouldn't be so sure," I said. "I think you'd do a good job at anything you set your mind to."

"Thanks, Nagato, Yamazaki-san said. "Coming from you, that means a lot.

We shook hands. Neither of our talents were very promising for our future careers, but they had gotten us into Talent High School, enabling us to meet each other and everyone else in our class. I didn't know what the future had in store for us, but I knew that I'd always be grateful for the chance to meet all these people I'd have never spoken with otherwise.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Many of the characters I write have relatively useless talents, to show that not all Ultimate titles are equally desirable. This series of Free Time Events shows how some titles don't necessarily guarantee success in the future.

This concludes Chiyuri's Free Time Events. There will be some other Side Stories, including Cruise Mode, eventually.


End file.
